JANE  AUSrEN'S  JVORKS 


MANSFIELD  PARK 
Volume  I. 


JANE  AUSTEN'S  WORKS. 

Sense  and  Sensibility   ...  2  vols. 

Pride  and  Prejudice  .  .  .  • .  2  vols. 

Mansfield  Park   2  vols. 

Emma   2  vols. 

NORTHANGER  AbBEY    ....    I  vol. 

Persuasion  i  vol. 

Lady  Susan  —  The  Watsons 

With  a  Memoir  .  .  .  .  i  vol. 
Letters  i  vol. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2014 


https://archive.org/details/nnansfieldpark01aust 


THE  NOVELS  OF  JANE  AUSTEN 


MANSFIELD 
PARK 

BY 

JANE  AUSTEN 

IN  TWO  VOLUMES 

Vol.  I. 


BOSTON 

LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY 

1903 


Copyright,  189^, 
By  Roberts  Brothers. 


John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge,  U.S.A. 


MANSFIELD  PAEK. 


CHAPTER  I. 

BOUT  thirty  years  ago  Miss  Maria 
Ward,  of  Huntingdon,  with  only  seven 
thousand  pounds,  had  the  good  luck  to 
captivate  Sir  Thomas  Bertram,  of  Mans- 
field Park,  in  the  county  of  Northampton,  and  to 
be  thereby  raised  to  the  rank  of  a  baronet's  lady, 
with  all  the  comforts  and  consequences  of  a  hand- 
some house  and  large  income.  All  Huntingdon 
exclaimed  on  the  greatness  of  the  match;  and  her 
uncle,  the  lawyer,  himself  allowed  her  to  be  at 
least  three  thousand  pounds  short  of  any  equitable 
claim  to  it.  She  had  two  sisters  to  be  benefited 
by  her  elevation;  and  such  of  their  acquaintance 
as  thought  Miss  Ward  and  Miss  Frances  quite  as 
handsome  as  Miss  Maria,  did  not  scruple  to  pre- 
dict their  marrying  with  almost  equal  advantage. 
But  there  certainly  are  not  so  many  men  of  large 
fortune  in  the  world  as  there  are  pretty  women  to 
deserve  them.    Miss  Ward,  at  the  end  of  half-a- 


6 


MANSFIELD  PAEK. 


dozen  years,  found  herself  obliged  to  be  attached 
to  the  Eev.  Mr.  Norris,  a  friend  of  her  brother-in- 
law,  with  scarcely  any  private  fortune;  and  Miss 
Frances  fared  yet  worse.  Miss  Ward's  match, 
indeed,  when  it  came  to  the  j^oint,  was  not  con- 
temptible, Sir  Thomas  being  happily  able  to  give 
his  friend  an  income  in  the  living  of  Mansfield; 
and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  ISTorris  began  their  career  of 
conjugal  felicity  with  very  little  less  than  a  thou- 
sand a  year.  But  Miss  Frances  married,  in  the 
common  phrase,  to  disoblige  her  family,  and  by 
fixing  on  a  Lieutenant  of  Marines,  without  educar 
tion,  fortune,  or  connections,  did  it  very  thor- 
oughly. She  could  hardly  have  made  a  more 
untoward  choice.  Sir  Thomas  Bertram  had  in- 
terest which,  from  principle  as  well  as  pride, 
from  a  general  wish  of  doing  right,  and  a  desire 
of  seeing  all  that  were  connected  with  him  in  situ- 
ations of  respectability,  he  would  have  been  glad 
to  exert  for  the  advantage  of  Lady  Bertram's  sis- 
ter: but  her  husband's  profession  was  such  as  no 
interest  could  reach;  and  before  he  had  time  to 
devise  any  other  method  of  assisting  them,  an 
absolute  breach  between  the  sisters  had  taken 
place.  It  was  the  natural  result  of  the  conduct 
of  each  party,  and  such  as  a  very  imprudent  mar- 
riage almost  always  produces.  To  save  herself 
from  useless  remonstrance,  Mrs.  Price  never  wrote 
to  her  family  on  the  subject  till  actually  married. 
Lady  Bertram,  who  was  a  woman  of  very  tranquil 
feelings,  and  a  temper  remarkably  easy  and  indo- 
lent, would  have  contented  herself  with  merely 
giving  up  her  sister,  and  thinking  no  more  of  the 


MANSEIELD  PABK. 


7 


matter;  hut  Mrs.  i^Torris  Lad  a  spirit  of  activity, 
whicli  could  not  be  satisfied  till  slie  had  written  a 
long  and  angry  letter  to  Fanny,  to  point  out  the 
folly  of  her  conduct,  and  threaten  her  with  all  its 
possible  ill  consequences.  Mrs.  Price,  in  her 
turn,  was  injured  and  angry;  and  an  answer, 
which  comprehended  each  sister  in  its  bitterness, 
and  bestowed  such  very  disrespectful  reflections  on 
the  pride  of  Sir  Thomas  as  Mrs.  Norris  could  not 
possibly  keep  to  herself,  put  an  end  to  all  inter* 
course  between  them  for  a  considerable  period. 

Their  homes  w^ere  so  distant,  and  the  circles  in 
which  they  moved  so  distinct,  as  almost  to  preclude 
the  means  of  ever  hearing  of  each  other's  existence 
during  the  eleven  following  years,  or  at  least  to 
make  it  very  wonderful  to  Sir  Thomas  that  Mrs. 
Norris  should  ever  have  it  in  her  power  to  tell 
them,  as  she  now  and  then  did  in  an  angry  voice, 
that  Fanny  had  got  another  child.  By  the  end  of 
eleven  years,  however,  Mrs.  Price  could  no  longer 
afford  to  cherish  pride  or  resentment,  or  to  lose 
one  connection  that  might  possibly  assist  her. 
A  large  and  still  increasing  family,  a  husband  dis- 
abled for  active  service,  but  not  the  less  equal  to 
company  and  good  liquor,  and  a  very  small  income 
to  supply  their  wants,  made  her  eager  to  regain 
the  friends  she  had  so  carelessly  sacrificed;  and 
she  addressed  Lady  Bertram  in  a  letter  w^hich 
spoke  so  much  contrition  and  despondence,  such  a 
superfluity  of  children,  and  such  a  want  of  almost 
everything  else,  as  could  not  but  dispose  them  all 
to  a  reconciliation.  She  was  preparing  for  her 
ninth  lying-in;  and  after  bewailing  the  circum- 


8 


MANSFIELD  PAEK. 


stance,  and  imploring  their  countenance  as  spon- 
sors to  the  expected  child,  she  could  not  conceal 
how  important  she  felt  they  might  he  to  the  future 
maintenance  of  the  eight  alread}^  in  heing.  Her 
eldest  was  a  hoy  of  ten  years  old,  a  fine  spirited 
fellow,  who  longed  to  he  out  in  the  world;  hut 
what  could  she  do?  Was  there  any  chance  of  his 
heing  hereafter  useful  to  Sir  Thomas  in  the  con- 
cerns of  his  West  Indian  property?  'No  situation 
would  he  heneath  him,  —  or  what  did  Sir  Thomas 
think  of  Woolwich?  or  how  could  a  hoy  he  sent 
out  to  the  East? 

The  letter  was  not  unproductive.  It  re-estab- 
lished peace  and  kindness.  Sir  Thomas  sent 
friendly  advice  and  professions.  Lady  Bertram  de- 
spatched money  and  hahy-linen,  and  Mrs.  Norris 
wrote  the  letters. 

Such  were  its  imiT.ediate  effects,  and  within  a 
twelvemonth  a  more  important  advantage  to  Mrs. 
Price  resulted  from  it.  Mrs.  Norris  was  often 
observing  to  the  others  that  she  could  not  get  her 
poor  sister  and  her  family  out  of  her  head,  and 
that,  much  as  they  had  all  done  for  her,  she 
seemed  to  be  wanting  to  do  more;  and  at  length 
she  could  not  but  own  it  to  be  her  wish  that  poor 
Mrs.  Price  should  be  relieved  from  the  charge  and 
expense  of  one  child  entirely  out  of  her  great 
number. 

^^What  if  they  were  among  them  to  undertake 
the  care  of  her  eldest  daughter,  a  girl  now  nine 
years  old,  of  an  age  to  require  more  attention  than 
her  poor  mother  could  possibly  give?  The  trouble 
and  expense  of  it  to  them  would  be  nothing  com- 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


9 


pared  with  the  benevolence  of  the  action.'^  Lady 
Bertram  agreed  with  her  instantly.  ^^I  think  we 
cannot  do  better/'  said  shej  ^^let  us  send  for  the 
child.'' 

Sir  Thomas  could  not  give  so  instantaneous  and 
unqualified  a  consent.  He  debated  and  hesitated : 
it  was  a  serious  charge ;  a  girl  so  brought  up 
must  be  adequately  provided  for^  or  there  would 
be  cruelty  instead  of  kindness  in  taking  her  from 
her  family.  He  thought  of  his  own  four  chil- 
dren, —  of  his  two  sons,  of  cousins  in  love,  etc. ; 
but  no  sooner  had  he  deliberately  begun  to  state 
his  objections,  than  Mrs.  Korris  interrupted  him 
with  a  reply  to  them  all,  whether  stated  or  not. 

^^My  dear  Sir  Thomas,  I  perfectly  comprehend 
you,  and  do  justice  to  the  generosity  and  delicacy 
of  your  notions,  which  indeed  are  quite  of  a  piece 
with  your  general  conduct;  and  I  entirely  agree 
with  you  in  the  main  as  to  the  propriety  of  doing 
everything  one  could  by  way  of  providing  for  a 
child  one  had  in  a  manner  taken  into  one's  own 
hands ;  and  I  am  sure  I  should  be  the  last  person 
in  the  world  to  withhold  my  mite  upon  such  an 
occasion.  Having  no  children  of  my  own,  whom 
should  I  look  to  in  any  little  matter  I  may  ever 
have  to  bestow,  but  the  children  of  my  sisters? 
and  I  am  sure  Mr.  ISTorris  is  too  just  —  But  you 
know  I  am  a  woman  of  few  words  and  professions. 
Do  not  let  us  be  frightened  from  a  good  deed  by  a 
trifle.  Give  a  girl  an  education,  and  introduce 
her  properly  into  the  world,  and  ten  to  one  but  she 
has  the  means  of  settling  well,  without  further  ex- 
pense to  anybody.    A  niece  of  ours,  Sir  Thomas, 


10 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


I  may  say,  or  at  least  of  yours,  would  not  grow  up 
in  this  neighborhood  without  many  advantages. 
I  don't  say  she  would  be  so  handsome  as  her 
cousins.  I  dare  say  she  would  not ;  but  she  would 
be  introduced  into  the  society  of  this  country  un- 
der such  very  favorable  circumstances  as  in  all 
human  probability  would  get  her  a  creditable  estab- 
lishment. You  are  thinking  of  your  sons,  — but  do 
not  you  know  that  of  all  things  upon  earth  that  is 
the  least  likely  to  happen;  brought  up,  as  they 
would  be,  always  together  like  brothers  and  sis- 
ters? It  is  morally  impossible.  I  never  knew  an 
instance  of  it.  It  is,  in  fact,  the  only  sure  way  of 
providing  against  the  connection.  Suppose  her  a 
pretty  girl,  and  seen  by  Tom  or  Edmund  for  the 
first  time  seven  years  hence,  and  I  dare  say  there 
would  be  mischief.  The  very  idea  of  her  having 
been  suffered  to  grow  up  at  a  distance  from  us  all 
in  poverty  and  neglect,  would  be  enough  to  make 
either  of  the  dear,  sweet-tempered  boys  in  love 
with  her.  But  breed  her  up  with  them  from  this 
time,  and  suppose  her  even  to  have  the  beauty  of 
an  angel,  and  she  will  never  be  more  to  either 
than  a  sister.'' 

' '  There  is  a  great  deal  of  truth  in  what  you 
say,"  replied  Sir  Thomas,  ^^and  far  be  it  from  me 
to  throw  any  fanciful  impediment  in  the  way  of  a 
plan  which  would  be  so  consistent  with  the  rela- 
tive situations  of  each.  I  only  meant  to  observe 
that  it  ought  not  to  be  lightly  engaged  in,  and 
that  to  make  it  really  serviceable  to  Mrs.  Price, 
and  creditable  to  ourselves,  we  must  secure  to  the 
child;  or  consider  ourselves  engaged  to  secure  to 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


11 


her  hereafter,  as  circumstances  may  arise,  the  pro- 
vision of  a  gentlewoman,  if  no  such  establishment 
should  offer  as  you  are  so  sanguine  in  expecting.'' 
^^I  thoroughly  understand  you,''  cried  Mrs. 
Norris;  ^^you  are  everything  that  is  generous  and 
considerate,  and  I  am  sure  we  shall  never  disagree 
on  this  point.  Whatever  I  can  do,  .as  you  well 
know,  I  am  always  ready  enough  to  do  for  the 
good  of  those  I  love;  and  though  I  could  never 
feel  for  this  little  girl  the  hundredth  part  of  tlie 
regard  I  bear  your  own  dear  children,  nor  consider 
her  in  any  respect  so  much  my  own,  I  should 
hate  myself  if  I  were  capable  of  neglecting  her. 
Is  not  she  a  sister's  child?  and  could  I  bear  to  see 
her  want,  while  I  had  a  bit  of  bread  to  give  her? 
My  dear  Sir  Thomas,  with  all  my  faults  I  have  a 
warm  heart,  and  poor  as  I  am,  would  rather  deny 
myself  the  necessaries  of  life  than  do  an  ungen- 
erous thing.  So,  if  you  are  not  against  it,  I  will 
write  to  my  poor  sister  to-morrow,  and  make  the 
proposal;  and  as  soon  as  matters  are  settled,  I 
will  engage  to  get  the  child  to  Mansfield;  you 
shall  have  no  trouble  about  it.  My  own  trouble, 
you  know,  I  never  regard.  I  will  send  Kanny  to 
London  on  purpose,  and  she  ma}^  have  a  bed  at  her 
cousin  the  saddler's,  and  the  child  be  appointed  to 
meet  her  there.  They  may  easily  get  her  from 
Portsmouth  to  town  by  the  coach,  under  the  care 
of  any  cT^-editable  person  that  may  chance  to  be 
going.  I  dare  say  there  is  always  some  reputable 
tradesman's  wife  or  other  going  up." 

Except  to  the  attack  on  Nanny's  cousin,  Sir 
Thomas  no  longer  made  any  objection;  and  a  more 


12 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


respectable  though  less  economical  rendezvous 
being  accordingly  substituted^  everything  was  con- 
sidered as  settled^  and  the  pleasures  of  so  benevo- 
lent a  scheme  were  already  enjoyed.  The  division 
of  gratifying  sensations  ought  not,  in  strict  justice, 
to  have  been  equal;  for  Sir  Thomas  was  fully 
resolved  to  be  the  real  and  consistent  patron  of 
the  selected  child,  and  Mrs.  Norris  had  not  the 
least  intention  of  being  at  any  expense  whatever 
in  her  maintenance.  As  far  as  walking,  talking, 
and  contriving  reached,  she  was  thoroughly  be- 
nevolent, and  nobody  knew  better  how  to  dictate 
liberality  to  others;  but  her  love  of  money  was 
equal  to  her  love  of  directing,  and  she  knew  quite 
as  well  how  to  save  her  own  as  to  spend  that  of  her 
friends.  Having  married  on  a  narrower  income 
than  she  had  been  used  to  look  forward  to,  she 
had,  from  the  first,  fancied  a  very  strict  line  of 
economy  necessary;  and  what  was  begun  as  a 
matter  of  prudence  soon  grew  into  a  matter  of 
choice,  as  an  object  of  that  needful  solicitude 
which  there  were  no  children  to  supply.  Had 
there  been  a  family  to  provide  for,  Mrs.  ISTorris 
might  never  have  saved  her  money;  but  having 
no  care  of  that  kind,  there  was  nothing  to  impede 
her  frugality,  or  lessen  the  comfort  of  making  a 
yearly  addition  to  an  income  which  they  had  never 
lived  up  to.  Under  this  infatuating  principle, 
counteracted  by  no  real  affection  for  her  sister,  it 
was  impossible  for  her  to  aim  at  more  than  the 
credit  of  projecting  and  arranging  so  expensive  a 
charity;  though  perhaps  she  might  so  little  know 
herself  as  to  walk  home  to  the  Parsonage,  after 


MANSriELB  PARK. 


13 


this  conversation,  in  the  happy  belief  of  being 
the  most  liberal-minded  sister  and  aunt  in  the 
world. 

When  the  subject  was  brought  forward  again, 
her  views  were  more  fully  explained;  and  in 
reply  to  Lady  Bertram's  calm  inquiry  of  * '  Where 
shall  the  child  come  to  first,  sister,  — to  you  or  to 
us?  Sir  Thomas  heard,  with  some  surprise, 
that  it  would  be  totally  out  of  Mrs.  Norris's  power 
to  take  any  share  in  the  personal  charge  of  her. 
He  had  been  considering  her  as  a  particularly 
welcome  addition  at  the  Parsonage,  as  a  desirable 
companion  to  an  aunt  who  had  no  children  of  her 
own;  but  he  found  himself  wholly  mistaken. 
Mrs.  !Norris  was  sorry  to  say  that  the  little  girl's 
staying  with  them,  at  least  as  things  then  were, 
was  quite  out  of  the  question.  Poor  Mr.  Norris's 
indifferent  state  of  health  made  it  an  impossibil- 
ity; he  could  no  more  bear  the  noise  of  a  child 
than  he  could  fly.  If,  indeed,  he  should  ever  get 
well  of  his  gouty  complaints,  it  would  be  a  differ- 
ent matter;  she  should  then  be  glad  to  take  her 
turn,  and  think  nothing  of  the  inconvenience: 
but  just  now  poor  Mr.  Korris  took  up  every  mo- 
ment of  her  time,  and  the  very  mention  of  such  a 
thing  she  was  sure  would  distract  him. 

Then  she  had  better  come  to  us?  '  said  Lady 
Bertram,  with  the  utmost  composure.  After  a 
short  pause  Sir  Thomas  added  with  dignity: 
^^Yes,  let  her  home  be  in  this  house.  We  will 
endeavor  to  do  our  duty  by  her,  and  she  will  at 
least  have  the  advantage  of  companions  of  her  own 
age  and  of  a  regular  instructress." 


14 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


^^Very  true/^  cried  Mrs.  IsTorris,  which  are 
both  very  important  considerations;  and  it  will 
be  just  the  same  to  Miss  Lee,  whether  she  has 
three  girls  to  teach,  or  only  two,  —  there  can  be 
no  difference.  I  only  wish  I  could  be  more  use- 
ful ;  but  you  see  I  do  all  in  my  power.  I  am  not 
one  of  those  that  spare  their  own  trouble;  and 
Nanny  shall  fetch  her,  however  it  may  put  me  to 
inconvenience  to  have  my  chief  counsellor  away 
for  three  days.  I  suppose,  sister,  you  will  put 
the  child  in  the  little  white  attic,  near  the  old 
nurseries.  It  will  be  much  the  best  place  for  her, 
so  near  Miss  Lee,  and  not  far  from  the  girls,  and 
close  by  the  housemaids,  who  could  either  of  them 
help  to  dress  her,  you  know,  and  take  care  of  her 
clothes ;  for  I  suppose  you  would  not  think  it  fair 
to  expect  Ellis  to  wait  on  her  as  well  as  the  others. 
Indeed,  I  do  not  see  that  you  could  possibly  place 
her  anywhere  else.'' 

Lady  Bertram  made  no  opposition. 

^^I  hope  she  will  prove  a  well-disposea  girl,'' 
continued  Mrs.  Norris,  ^^and  be  sensible  of  her 
uncommon  good  fortune  in  having  such  friends." 

Should  her  disposition  be  really  bad,''  said 
Sir  Thomas,  we  must  not,  for  our -own  children's 
sake,  continue  her  in  the  family;  but  there  is  no 
reason  to  expect  so  great  an  evil.  We  shall  prob- 
ably see  much  to  wish  altered  in  her,  and  must 
prepare  ourselves  for  gross  ignorance,  some  mean- 
ness of  opinions,  and  very  distressing  vulgarity  of 
manner;  but  these  are  not  incurable  faults,  nor, 
I  trust,  can  they  be  dangerous  for  her  associates. 
Had  my  daughters  been  younger  than  herself,  I 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


15 


should  have  considered  the  introduction  of  such  a 
companion  as  a  matter  of  very  serious  moment; 
but  as  it  is,  I  hope  there  can  be  nothing  to  fear 
for  them,  and  everything  to  hope  for  her,  from  the 
association." 

^^That  is  exactly  what  I  think, cried  Mrs. 
^^orris,  ^^and  what  I  was  saying  to  my  husband 
this  morning.  It  will  be  an  education  for  the 
child,  said  I,  only  being  with  her  cousins;  if 
Miss  Lee  taught  her  nothing,  she  would  learn  to 
be  good  and  clever  from  them.'^ 

^^I  hope  she  will  not  tease  my  poor  pug,^'  said 
Lady  Bertram;  ^^I  have  but  just  got  Julia  to 
leave  it  alone.'' 

There  will  be  some  difficulty  in  our  way,  Mrs. 
Norris,''  observed  Sir  Thomas,  ^^as  to  the  dis- 
tinction proper  to  be  made  between  the  girls  as 
they  grow  up:  how  to  preserve  in  the  minds  of 
my  daughters  the  consciousness  of  what  they  are, 
without  making  them  think  too  lowly  of  their 
cousin;  and  how,  without  depressing  her  spirits 
too  far,  to  make  her  remember  that  she  is  not  a 
Miss  Bertram.  I  should  wish  to  see  them  very 
good  friends,  and  would  on  no  account  authorize 
in  my  girls  the  smallest  degree  of  arrogance  to- 
wards their  relation;  but  still  they  cannot  be 
equals.  Their  rank,  fortune,  rights,  and  expecta- 
tions wdll  always  be  different.  It  is  a  point  of 
great  delicacy,  and  you  must  assist  us  in  our 
endeavors  to  choose  exactly  the  right  line  of 
conduct." 

Mrs.  Norris  was  quite  at  his  service;  and 
^hough  she  perfectly  agreed  with  him  as  to  its 


16 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


being  a  most  difficult  thing,  encouraged  him  to 
hope  that  between  them  it  would  be  easily 
managed. 

It  will  be  readily  believed  that  Mrs.  Norris  did 
not  write  to  her  sister  in  vain.  Mrs.  Price  seemed 
rather  surprised  that  a  girl  should  be  fixed  on, 
when  she  had  so  many  fine  boys,  but  accepted  the 
offer  most  thankfully,  assuring  them  of  her  daugh- 
ter's being  a  very  well-disposed,  good-humored 
girl,  and  trusting  they  would  never  have  cause  to 
throw  her  off.  She  spoke  of  her  further  as  some- 
what delicate  and  puny,  but  was  sanguine  in  the 
hope  of  her  being  materially  better  for  change  of 
air.  Poor  woman!  she  probably  thought  change 
of  air  might  agree  with  many  of  her  children. 


CHAPTEE  II. 


The  little  girl  performed  her  long  journey  in 
safety;  and  at  ISTorthampton  was  met  by  Mrs. 
Norris,  who  thus  regaled  in  the  credit  of  being 
foremost  to  welcome  her,  and  in  the  importance  of 
leading  her  in  to  the  others,  and  recommending 
her  to  their  kindness. 

Eanny  Price  w^as  at  this  time  just  ten  years  old; 
and  though  there  might  not  be  much  in  her  first 
appearance  to  captivate,  there  was,  at  least,  noth- 
ing to  disgust  her  relations.  She  was  small  of  her 
age,  with  no  glow  of  complexion,  nor  any  other 
striking  beauty;  exceedingly  timid  and  shy,  and 
shrinking  from  notice;  but  her  air,  though  awk- 
ward, was  not  vulgar,  her  voice  was  sweet,  and 
when  she  spoke  her  countenance  was  pretty.  Sir 
Thomas  and  Lady  Bertram  received  her  very 
kindly;  and  Sir  Thomas,  seeing  how  much  she 
needed  encouragement,  tried  to  be  all  that  was  con- 
ciliating :  but  he  had  to  w^ork  against  a  most  unto- 
ward gravity  of  deportment;  and  Lady  Bertram, 
without  taking  half  so  much  trouble,  or  speaking 
one  word  where  he  spoke  ten,  by  the  mere  aid  of  a 
good-humored  smile,  became  immediately  the  less 
awful  character  of  the  two. 

The  young  people  were  all  at  home,  and  sus- 
tained their  share  in  the  introduction  very  well, 

VOL.  I.  —  2 


18 


MANSFIELD  PARK, 


with  much  good-humor,  and  no  embarrassment,  at 
least  on  the  part  of  the  sons,  who  at  seventeen  and 
sixteen,  and  tall  of  their  age,  had  all  the  grandeur 
of  men  in  the  eyes  of  their  little  cousin.  The  two 
girls  were  more  at  a  loss,  from  being  younger  and 
in  greater  awe  of  their  father,  vv^ho  addressed  them 
on  the  occasion  with  rather  an  injudicious  particu- 
larity. But  they  were  too  much  used  to  company 
and  praise  to  have  anything  like  natural  shyness ; 
and  their  confidence  increasing  from  their  cousin's 
total  want  of  it,  they  were  soon  able  to  take  a 
full  survey  of  her  face  and  her  frock  in  easy 
indifference. 

They  were  a  remarkably  fine  family;  the  sons 
very  well  looking,  the  daughters  decidedly  hand- 
some, and  all  of  them  well  grown  and  forward  of 
their  age,  which  produced  as  striking  a  difference 
between  the  cousins  in  person  as  education  had 
given  to  their  address ;  and  no  one  would  have  sup- 
posed the  girls  so  nearly  of  an  age  as  they  really 
were. 

There  was,  in  fact,  but  two  years  between  the 
youngest  and  Fanny.  Julia  Bertram  was  only 
twelve,  and  Maria  but  a  year  older.  The  little 
visitor  meanwhile  was  as  unhappy  as  possible. 
Afraid  of  everybody,  ashamed  of  herself,  and  long- 
ing for  the  home  she  had  left,  she  knew  not  how 
to  look  up,  and  could  scarcely  speak  to  be  heard 
or  without  crying.  Mrs.  Norris  had  been  talking 
to  her  the  whole  way  from  ^Northampton  of  her 
wonderful  good  fortune,  and  the  extraordinary  de- 
gree of  gratitude  and  good  behavior  which  it  ought 
to  produce,  and  her  consciousness  of  misery  was 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


19 


therefore  increased  by  the  idea  of  its  being  a 
wicked  thing  for  her  not  to  be  happy.  The  fatigue, 
too,  of  so  long  a  journey  became  soon  no  trifling 
evil.  In  vain  were  the  well-meant  condescensions 
of  Sir  Thomas,  and  all  the  officious  prognostica- 
tions of  Mrs.  l^orris  that  she  would  be  a  good  girl; 
in  vain  did  Lady  Bertram  smile  and  make  her  sit 
on  the  sofa  with  herself  and  pug,  and  vain  was 
even  the  sight  of  a  gooseberry  tart  towards  giving 
her  comfort :  she  could  scarcely  swallow  two  mouth- 
fuls  before  tears  interrupted  her;  and  sleep  seeming 
to  be  her  likeliest  friend,  she  was  taken  to  finish 
her  sorrows  in  bed. 

"  This  is  not  a  very  promising  beginning,"  said 
Mrs.   Norris,   when  Fanny  had  left    the  room. 

After  all  that  I  said  to  her  as  we  came  along,  I 
thought  she  would  have  behaved  better;  I  told  her 
how  much  might  depend  upon  her  acquitting  her- 
self well  at  first.  I  wish  there  may  not  be  a  little 
sulkiness  of  temper,  —  her  poor  mother  had  a  good 
deal;  but  we  must  make  allowances  for  such  a 
child;  and  I  do  not  know  that  her  being  sorry  to 
leave  her  home  is  really  against  her,  for,  with  all 
its  faults,  it  was  her  home,  and  she  cannot  as 
yet  understand  how  much  she  has  changed  for 
the  better;  but  then  there  is  moderation  in  all 
things." 

It  required  a  longer  time,  however,  than  Mrs. 
Norris  was  inclined  to  allow,  to  reconcile  Fanny 
to  the  novelty  of  Mansfield  Park,  and  the  separa- 
tion from  everybody  she  had  been  used  to.  Her 
feelings  were  very  acute,  and  too  little  understood 
to  be  properly  attended  to.    Xobody  meant  to  be 


20 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


tiiikind;  but  nobody  put  tbemselves  out  of  their 
way  to  secure  her  comfort. 

The  holiday  allowed  to  the  Miss  Bertrams  the 
next  day,  on  purpose  to  afford  leisure  for  getting 
acquainted  with,  and  entertaining  their  young 
cousin,  produced  little  union.  They  could  not  but 
hold  her  cheap  on  finding  that  she  had  but  two 
sashes,  and  had  never  learned  French;  and  when 
they  perceived  her  to  be  little  struck  with  the  duet 
they  were  so  good  as  to  play,  they  could  do  no 
more  than  make  her  a  generous  present  of  some  of 
their  least  valued  toys,  and  leave  her  to  herself, 
while  they  adjourned  to  whatever  might  be  the 
favorite  holiday  sport  of  the  moment,  making 
artificial  flowers  or  wasting  gold  paper. 

Fanny,  whether  near  or  from  her  cousins, 
whether  in  the  school-room,  the  drawing-room,  or 
the  shrubbery,  was  equally  forlorn,  finding  some- 
thing to  fear  in  every  person  and  place.  She  was 
disheartened  by  Lady  Bertram's  silence,  awed  by 
Sir  Thomas's  grave  looks,  and  quite  overcome  by 
Mrs.  Norris's  admonitions.  Her  elder  cousins 
mortified  her  by  reflections  on  her  size,  and  abashed 
her  by  noticing  her  shyness ;  Miss  Lee  wondered 
at  her  ignorance,  and  the  maid-servants  sneered  at 
her  clothes ;  and  when  to  these  sorrows  was  added 
the  idea  of  the  brothers  and  sisters  among  whom 
she  had  always  been  important  as  playfellow,  in- 
structress, and  nurse,  the  despondence  that  sunk 
her  little  heart  was  severe. 

The  grandeur  of  the  house  astonished,  but  could 
not  console  her.  The  rooms  were  too  large  for  her 
to  move  in  with  ease;  whatever  she  touched  she 


MANSFIELD  PAEK. 


21 


expected  to  injure,  and  she  crept  about  in  constant 
terror  of  something  or  other,  often  retreating  to- 
wards her  own  chamber  to  cry;  and  the  little  girl 
who  was  spoken  of  in  the  drawing-room  when  she 
left  it  at  night,  as  seeming  so  desirably  sensible  of 
her  peculiar  good  fortune,  ended  every  day's  sor- 
rows by  sobbing  herself  to  sleep.  A  week  had 
passed  in  this  way,  and  no  suspicion  of  it  con- 
veyed by  her  quiet,  passive  manner,  when  she 
was  found  one  morning  by  her  cousin  Edmund, 
the  youngest  of  the  sons,  sitting  crying  on  the 
attic  stairs. 

My  dear  little  cousin,"  said  he,  with  all  the 
gentleness  of  an  excellent  nature,  ^^what  can  be 
the  matter?  And  sitting  down  by  her,  he  was 
at  great  pains  to  overcome  her  shame  in  being 
so  surprised,  and  persuade  her  to  speak  openly. 
^'  Was  she  ill?  or  was  anybody  angry  with  her?  or 
had  she  quarrelled  with  Maria  and  Julia?  or  was 
she  puzzled  about  anything  in  her  lesson  that  he 
could  explain?  Did  she,  in  short,  want  anything 
he  could  possibly  get  her,  or  do  for  her? For  a 
long  while  no  answer  could  be  obtained  beyond  a 
"^0,  no  — not  at  all — -no,  thank  you;  but  he 
still  persevered;  and  no  sooner  had  he  begun  to 
revert  to  her  own  home,  than  her  increased  sobs 
explained  to  him  where  the  grievance  lay.  He 
tried  to  console  her. 

You  are  sorry  to  leave  mamma,  my  dear  little 
Fanny,''  said  he,  which  shows  you  to  be  a  very 
good  girl;  but  you  must  remember  that  you  are 
with  relations  and  friends,  who  all  love  you,  and 
wish  to  make  you  happy.    Let  us  walk  out  in  the 


22 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


park,  and  you  shall  tell  me  all  about  your  brothers 
and  sisters.^' 

On  pursuing  the  subject,  he  found  that  dear  as 
all  these  brothers  and  sisters  generally  were,  there 
was  one  among  them  who  ran  more  in  her  thoughts 
than  the  rest.  It  was  William  whom  she  talked  of 
most,  and  wanted  most  to  see,  — William,  the  eldest, 
a  year  older  than  herself,  her  constant  companion 
and  friend ;  her  advocate  with  her  mother  (of  whom 
he  was  the  darling)  in  every  distress.  William 
did  not  like  she  should  come  away ;  he  had  told  her 
he  should  miss  her  very  much  indeed.'^  ^^But 
William  will  write  to  you,  I  dare  say.'^  ^^Yes, 
he  had  promised  he  would,  but  he  had  told  her  to 
write  first."  And  when  shall  you  do  it?  She 
hung  her  head,  and  answered  hesitatingly,  She 
did  not  know;  she  had  not  any  paper.'' 

^^If  that  be  all  your  difficulty,  I  will  furnish 
you  with  paper  and  every  other  material,  and  you 
may  write  your  letter  whenever  you  choose.  Would 
it  make  you  happy  to  write  to  William?  '' 

'^Yes,  very.'' 

^^Then  let  it  be  done  now.  Come  with  me  into 
the  breakfast-room;  we  shall  find  everything  there, 
and  be  sure  of  having  the  room  to  ourselves." 

^^But,  cousin,  — will  it  go  to  the  post?" 
Yes,  depend  upon  me  it  shall;  it  shall  go  with 
the  other  letters ;  and  as  your  uncle  will  frank  it, 
it  will  cost  William  nothing." 

"M-j  uncle?"  repeated  Fanny,  with  a  fright- 
ened look. 

Yes,  when  you  have  written  the  letter,  I  will 
take  it  to  my  father  to  frank." 


MANSEIELD  PARK. 


23 


Fanny  thought  it  a  hold  measure,  hut  offered  no 
further  resistance ;  and  they  went  together  into  the 
breakfast-room,  where  Edmund  prepared  her  paper, 
and  ruled  her  lines  with  all  the  good-will  that  her 
brother  could  himself  have  felt,  and  probably  with 
somewhat  more  exactness.  He  continued  with  her 
the  whole  time  of  her  writing,  to  assist  her  with 
his  penknife  or  his  orthography,  as  either  were 
wanted;  and  added  to  these  attentions,  which  she 
felt  very  much,  a  kindness  to  her  brother,  which 
delighted  her  beyond  all  the  rest.  He  wrote  with 
his  own  hand  his  love  to  his  cousin  William,  and 
sent  him  half  a  guinea  under  the  seal.  Fanny's 
feelings  on  the  occasion  were  such  as  she  believed 
herself  incapable  of  expressing;  hut  her  countenance 
and  a  few  artless  words  fully  conveyed  all  their 
gratitude  and  delight,  and  her  cousin  began  to  find 
her  an  interesting  object.  He  talked  to  her  more, 
and,  from  all  that  she  said,  was  convinced  of  her 
having  an  affectionate  heart,  and  a  strong  desire  of 
doing  riglit;  and  he  could  perceive  her  to  be  fur- 
ther entitled  to  attention,  by  great  sensibility  of 
her  situation,  and  great  timidity.  He  had  never 
knowingly  given  her  pain,  but  he  now  felt  that  she 
required  more  positive  kindness,  and  with  that 
view  endeavored,  in  the  first  place,  to  lessen  her 
fears  of  them  all,  and  gave  her  especially  a  great 
deal  of  good  advice  as  to  playing  with  Maria  and 
Julia,  and  being  as  merry  as  possible. 

From  this  day  Fanny  grew  more  comfortable. 
She  felt  that  she  had  a  friend,  and  the  kindness  of 
her  cousin  Edmund  gave  her  better  spirits  with 
everybody  else.    The  place  became  less  strange. 


24 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


and  the  people  less  formidable;  and  if  there  were 
some  amongst  them  whom  she  could  not  cease  to 
fear,  she  began  at  least  to  know  their  ways,  and  to 
catch  the  best  manner  of  conforming  to  them.  The 
little  rusticities  and  awkwardnesses  which  had  at 
first  made  grievous  inroads  on  the  tranquillity  of 
all,  and  not  least  of  herself,  necessarily  wore  away, 
and  she  was  no  longer  materially  afraid  to  appear 
before  her  uncle,  nor  did  her  aunt  Norris's  voice 
make  her  start  very  much.  To  her  cousins  she 
became  occasionally  an  acceptable  companion. 
Though  unworthy,  from  inferiority  of  age  _  and 
strength,  to  be  their  constant  associate,  their 
pleasures  and  schemes  were  sometimes  of  a  nature 
to  make  a  third  very  useful,  especially  when  that 
third  was  of  an  obliging,  yielding  temper;  and 
they  could  not  but  own,  when  their  aunt  inquired 
into  her  faults,  or  their  brother  Edmund  urged  her 
claims  to  their  kindness,  that  Fanny  was  good- 
natured  enough. 

Edmund  was  uniformly  kind  himself;  and  she 
had  nothing  worse  to  endure  on  the  part  of  Tom 
than  that  sort  of  merriment  which  a  young  man  of 
seventeen  will  always  think  fair  with  a  child  of 
ten.  He  was  just  entering  into  life,  full  of  spirits, 
and  wuth  all  the  liberal  dispositions  of  an  eldest 
son,  who  feels  born  only  for  expense  and  enjoy- 
ment. His  kindness  to  his  little  cousin  was  con- 
sistent with  his  situation  and  rights;  he  made  her 
some  very  pretty  presents,  and  laughed  at  her. 

As  her  appearance  and  spirits  improved.  Sir 
Thomas  and  Mrs.  Norris  thought  with  greater  sat- 
isfaction of  their  benevolent  plan;   and  it  was 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


25 


pretty  soon  decided  between  them  that  though  far 
from  clever,  she  showed  a  tractable  disposition,  and 
seemed  likely  to  give  them  little  trouble.  A  mean 
opinion  of  her  abilities  was  not  confined  to  them. 
Fanny  could  read,  work,  and  write,  but  she  had 
been  taught  nothing  more;  and  as  her  cousins 
found  her  ignorant  of  many  things  with  which 
they  had  been  long  familiar,  they  thought  her  pro- 
digiously stupid,  and  for  the  first  two  or  three 
weeks  were  continually  bringing  some  fresh  report 
of  it  into  the  drawing-room.  ^^Dear  mamma,  only 
think,  my  cousin  cannot  put  the  map  of  Europe  to- 
gether —  or  my  cousin  cannot  tell  the  principal 
rivers  in  Russia — or  she  never  heard  of  Asia 
Minor  —  or  she  does  not  know  the  difference  be- 
tween water-colors^  and  crayons !  How  strange  I 
Did  you  ever  hear  anything  so  stupid? 

My  dear,"  their  considerate  aunt  would  reply, 
^^it  is  very  bad;  but  you  must  not  expect  every- 
body to  be  as  forward  and  quick  at  learning  as 
yourself." 

^^But,  aunt,  she  is  really  so  very  ignorant!  Do 
you  know,  we  asked  her  last  night,  which  way  she 
would  go  to  get  to  Ireland;  and  she  said,  she 
should  cross  to  the  Isle  of  Wight.  She  thinks  of 
nothing  but  the  Isle  of  Wight,  and  she  calls  it  the 
Island,  as  if  there  were  no  other  island  in  the 
world.  I  am  sure  I  should  have  been  ashamed  of 
myself,  if  I  had  not  known  better  long  before  I 
was  so  old  as  she  is.  I  cannot  remember  the  time 
when  I  did  not  know  a  great  deal  that  she  has  not 
the  least  notion  of  yet.  How  long  ago  it  is,  aunt, 
since  we  used  to  repeat  the  chronological  order  of 


26 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


the  kings  of  England,  with  the  dates  of  their  ac- 
cession, and  most  of  the  principal  events  of  their 
reigns!  " 

^^Yes, "  added  the  other;  and  of  the  Eoman 
emperors  as  low  as  Severus;  besides  a  great  deal  of 
the  heathen  mythology,  and  all  the  metals,  semi- 
metals,  planets,  and  distinguished  philosophers.'' 

u  Ygj-y  true,  indeed,  my  dears;  but  you  are 
blessed  with  wonderful  memories,  and  your  poor 
cousin  has  probably  none  at  all.  There  is  a  vast 
deal  of  difference  in  memories,  as  well  as  in  every- 
thing else,  and  therefore  you  must  make  allowance 
for  your  cousin,  and  pity  her  de^icienc3^  And  re- 
member that  if  you  are  ever  so  forward  and  clever 
yourselves,  you  should  always  be  modest ;  for,  much 
as  you  know  already,  there  is  a  great  deal  more  for 
you  to  learn. " 

^^Yes,  I  know  there  is,  till  I  am  seventeen. 
But  I  must  tell  you  another  thing  of  Fanny,  so 
odd  and  so  stupid.  Do  you  know,  she  says  she 
does  not  want  to  learn  either  music  or  drawing." 

^^To  be  sure,  my  dear,  that  is  very  stupid  in- 
deed, and  shows  a  great  want  of  genius  and  emu- 
lation. But,  all  things  considered,  I  do  not  know 
whether  it  is  not  as  well  that  it  should  be  so;  for, 
though  you  know  (owing  to  me)  your  papa  and 
mamma  are  so  good  as  to  bring  her  up  with  you,  it 
is  not  at  all  necessary  that  she  should  be  as  accom- 
plished as  you  are;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  much 
more  desirable  that  there  should  be  a  difference.'' 

Such  were  the  counsels  by  which  Mrs.  Norris 
assisted  to  form  her  nieces'  minds;  and  it  is  not 
very  wonderful  that  with  all  their  promising  tal- 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


27 


ents  and  early  information,  tliey  should  be  entirely 
deficient  in  the  less  common  acquirements  of  self- 
knowledge,  generosity,  and  humility.  In  every- 
thing but  disposition  they  were  admirably  taught. 
Sir  Thomas  did  not  know  what  was  wanting,  be- 
cause, though  a  truly  anxious  father,  he  was  not 
outwardly  affectionate,  and  the  reserve  of  his  man- 
ner repressed  all  the  flow  of  their  spirits  before 
him. 

To  the  education  of  her  daughters  Lady  Ber- 
tram paid  not  the  smallest  attention.  She  had  not 
time  for  such  cares.  She  was  a  woman  who  spent 
her  days  in  sitting  nicely  dressed  on  a  sofa,  doing 
some  long  piece  of  needlework,  of  little  use  and  no 
beauty,  thinking  more  of  her  pug  than  her  chil- 
dren, but  very  indulgent  to  the  latter,  when  it  did 
not  put  herself  to  inconvenience,  guided  in  every- 
thing important  by  Sir  Thomas,  and  in  smaller 
concerns  by  her  sister.  Had  she  possessed  greater 
leisure  for  the  service  of  her  girls,  she  would  prob- 
ably have  supposed  it  unnecessary,  for  they  were 
under  the  care  of  a  governess,  with  proper  masters, 
and  could  want  nothing  more.  As  for  Fanny's 
being  stupid  at  learning,  ^^she  could  only  say  it 
was  very  unlucky,  but  some  people  were  stupid, 
and  Fanny  must  take  more  pains;  she  did  not 
know  what  else  was  to  be  done;  and,  except  her 
being  so  dull,  she  must  add,  she  saw  no  harm  in 
the  poor  little  thing,  —  and  always  found  her  very 
handy  and  quick  in  carrying  messages,  and  fetch- 
ing what  she  wanted." 

Fanny,  with  all  her  faults  of  ignorance  and  ti- 
midity, was  fixed  at  Mansfield  Park,  and  learning 


28 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


to  transfer  in  its  favor  much  of  her  attachment  to 
her  former  home,  grew  up  there  not  unhappily 
among  her  cousins.  There  was  no  positive  ill- 
nature  in  Maria  or  Julia;  and  though  Fanny  was 
often  mortified  hy  their  treatment  of  her,  she 
thought  too  lowly  of  her  own  claims  to  feel  injured 
by  it. 

From  about  the  time  of  her  entering  the  family, 
Lady  Bertram,  in  consequence  of  a  little  ill-health 
and  a  great  deal  of  indolence,  gave  up  the  house  in 
town,  which  she  had  been  used  to  occupy  every 
spring,  and  remained  wholly  in  the  country^  leav- 
ing Sir  Thomas  to  attend  his  dut}^  in  Parliament, 
with  whatever  increase  or  diminution  of  comfort 
might  arise  from  her  absence.  In  the  country, 
therefore,  the  Miss  Bertrams  continued  to  exercise 
their  memories,  practise  their  duets,  and  grow  tall 
and  womanly ;  and  their  father  saw  them  becoming 
in  person,  manner,  and  accomplishments,  every- 
thing that  could  satisfy  his  anxiety.  His  eldest 
son  was  careless  and  extravagant,  and  had  already 
given  him  much  uneasiness;  but  his  other  children 
promised  him  nothing  but  good.  His  daughters, 
he  felt,  while  they  retained  the  name  of  Bertram, 
must  be  giving  it  new  grace,  and  in  quitting  it 
he  trusted  would  extend  its  respectable  alliances; 
and  the  character  of  Edmund,  his  strong  good 
sense  and  uprightness  of  mind,  bid  most  fairly 
for  utility,  honor,  and  happiness  to  himself  and 
all  his  connections.    He  was  to  be  a  clergyman. 

Amid  the  cares  and  the  complacency  which  his 
own  children  suggested,  Sir  Thomas  did  not  for- 
get to  do  what  he  could  for  the  chi^Iren  of  Mrs. 


MANSEIELD  PARK. 


29 


Price:  he  assisted  her  liberally  in  the  education 
and  disposal  of  her  sons  as  they  became  old  enough 
for  a  determinate  pursuit;  and  Fanny,  though 
almost  totally  separated  from  her  family,  was 
sensible  of  the  truest  satisfaction  in  hearing  of 
any  kindness  towards  them,  or  of  anything  at  all 
promising  in  their  situation  or  conduct.  Once, 
and  once  only  in  the  course  of  many  years,,  had 
she  the  happiness  of  being  with  William.  Of 
the  rest  she  saw  nothing :  nobody  seemed  to  think 
of  her  ever  going  amongst  them  again,  even  for 
a  visit.  Nobody  at  home  seemed  to  want  her;  but 
William  determining,  soon  after  her  removal,  to 
be  a  sailor,  was  invited  to  spend  a  week  with  his 
sister  in  ISTorthamptonshire,  before  he  went  to 
sea.  Their  eager  affection  in  meeting,  their  ex- 
quisite delight  in  being  together,  their  hours  of 
happy  mirth,  and  moments  of  serious  conference 
may  be  imagined;  as  well  as  the  sanguine  views 
and  spirits  of  the  boy  even  to  the  last,  and  the 
misery  of  the  girl  when  he  left  her.  Luckily 
the  visit  happened  in  the  Christmas  holidays, 
when  she  could  directly  look  for  comfort  to  her 
cousin  Edmund;  and  he  told  her  such  charming 
things  of  what  William  was  to  do  and  be  here- 
after, in  consequence  of  his  profession,  as  made 
her  gradually  admit  that  the  separation  might 
have  some  use.  Edmund^s  friendship  never  failed 
her :  his  leaving  Eton  for  Oxford  made  no  change 
in  his  kind  dispositions,  and  only  afforded  more 
frequent  opportunities  of  proving  them.  With- 
out any  display  of  doing  more  than  the  rest,  or 
any  fear  of  doing  too  much,  he  v/as  always  true 


30 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


to  her  interests,  and  considerate  of  her  feelings; 
trying  to  make  her  good  qualities  understood, 
and  to  conquer  the  diffidence  which  prevented 
their  being  more  apparent;  giving  her  advice, 
consolation,  and  encouragement. 

Kept  back  as  she  was  by  everybody  else,  his 
single  support  could  not  bring  her  forward;  but 
his  attention  were  otherwise  of  the  highest  im- 
portance in  assisting  the  improvement  of  her 
mind,  and  extending  its  pleasures.  He  knew 
her  to  be  clever,  to  have  a  quick  apprehension 
as  well  as  good  sense,  and  a  fondness  for  reading 
which,  properly  directed,  must  be  an  education 
in  itself.  Miss  Lee  taught  her  French,  and 
heard  her  read  the  daily  portion  of  history;  but 
he  recommended  the  books  which  charmed  her 
leisure  hours,  he  encouraged  her  taste,  and  cor- 
rected her  judgment:  he  made  reading  useful  by 
talking  to  her  of  what  she  read,  and  heightened 
its  attraction  by  judicious  praise.  In  return  for 
such  services  she  loved  him  better  than  anybody 
in  the  world  except  William :  her  heart  was  di- 
vided between  the  two. 


CHAPTEE  III. 


The  first  event  of  any  importance  in  the  family 
was  the  death  of  Mr.  Norris,  which  happened 
when  Fanny  was  about  fifteen,  and  necessarily 
introduced  alterations  and  novelties.  Mrs.  Nor- 
ris,  on  quitting  the  Parsonage,  removed  first  to 
the  Park,  and  afterwards  to  a  small  house  of  Sir 
Thomas's  in  the  village,  and  consoled  herself  for 
the  loss  of  her  husband  by  considering  that  she 
could  do  very  well  without  him,  and  for  her  reduc- 
tion of  income  by  the  evident  necessity  of  stricter 
economy. 

The  living  was  hereafter  for  Edmund ;  and  had 
his  uncle  died  a  few  years  sooner,  it  would  have 
been  duly  given  to  some  friend  to  hold  till  he 
were  old  enough  for  orders.  But  Tom's  extrava- 
gance had,  previous  to  that  event,  been  so  great 
as  to  render  a  different  disposal  of  the  next  pre- 
sentation necessary,  and  the  younger  brother  must 
help  to  pay  for  the  pleasures  of  the  elder.  There 
was  another  family  living  actually  held  for  Ed- 
mund; but  though  this  circumstance  had  made 
the  arrangement  somewhat  easier  to  Sir  Thomas's 
conscience,  he  could  not  but  feel  it  to  be  an  act 
of  injustice,  and  he  earnestly  tried  to  impress  his 
eldest  son  with  the  same  conviction,  in  the  hope 
of  its  producing  a  better  effect  than  anything  he 
had  yet  been  able  to  say  or  do. 


32 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


^^I  blush  for  you,  Tom/'  said  he,  in  his  most 
dignified  manner;  ^^I  blush  for  the  expedient 
which  I  am  driven  on,  and  I  trust  I  may  pity  your 
feelings  as  a  brother  on  the  occasion.  You  have 
robbed  Edmund  for  ten,  twenty,  thirty  years,  per- 
haps for  life,  of  more  than  half  the  income  which 
ought  to  be  his.  It  may  hereafter  be  in  my  power, 
or  in  yours  (I  hope  it  will),  to  procure  him  better 
preferment;  but  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  no 
bei\efit  of  that  sort  would  have  been  beyond  his 
natural  claims  on  us,  and  that  nothing  can,  in 
fact,  be  an  equivalent  for  the  certain  advantage 
which  he  is  now  obliged  to  forego  through  the 
urgency  of  your  debts.'' 

Tom  listened  with  some  shame  and  some  sorrow; 
but  escaping  as  quickly  as  possible,  could  soon 
with  cheerful  selfishness  reflect,  first,  that  he  had 
not  been  half  so  much  in  debt  as  some  of  his 
friends ;  secondly,  that  his  father  had  made  a  most 
tiresome  piece  of  work  of  it;  and,  thirdly,  that  the 
future  incumbent,  whoever  he  might  be,  would  in 
all  probability  die  verj^  soon. 

On  Mr.  Norris's  death,  the  presentation  became 
the  right  of  a  Dr.  Grant,  who  came  consequently  to 
reside  at  Mansfield;  and  on  proving  to  be  a  hearty 
man  of  forty-five,  seemed  likely  to  disappoint  Mr. 
Bertram's  calculations.  But  ^'No,  he  was  a  short- 
necked,  apoplectic  sort  of  fellow,  and,  plied  well 
with  good  things,  would  soon  pop  off." 

He  had  a  wife  about  fifteen  years  his  junior,  but 
no  children;  and  they  entered  the  neighborhood 
with  the  usual  fair  report  of  being  very  respecta- 
ble, agreeable  people. 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


33 


The  time  was  now  come  wlien  Sir  Thomas  ex- 
pected his  sister-in-law  to  claim  her  share  in  their 
niece,  the  change  in  Mrs.  Norris's  situation  and 
the  improvement  in  Fanny's  age  seeming  not 
merely  to  do  away  any  former  objection  to  their 
living  together,  but  even  to  give  it  the  most  de- 
cided eligibility;  and  as  his  own  circumstances 
were  rendered  less  fair  than  heretofore  by  some 
recent  losses  on  his  West  India  estate,  in  addi- 
tion to  his  eldest  son's  extravagance,  it  became 
not  undesirable  to  himself  to  be  relieved  from  the 
expense  of  her  support,  and  the  obligation  of  her 
future  provision.  In  the  fulness  of  his  belief  that 
such  a  thing  must  be,  he  mentioned  its  probability 
to  his  wife;  and  the  first  time  of  the  subject's  oc- 
curing  to  her  again  happening  to  be  when  Fanny 
was  present,  she  calmly  observed  to  her:  ^^So, 
Fanny,  you  are  going  to  leave  us,  and  live  with 
my  sister.    How  shall  you  like  it?  " 

Fanny  was  too  much  surprised  to  do  more  than 
repeat  her  aunt's  words,  "  Going  to  leave  you?  " 

Yes,  my  dear,  why  should  you  be  astonished? 
You  have  been  five  years  with  us,  and  my  sister 
always  meant  to  take  you  when  Mr.  Norris  died. 
But  you  must  come  up  and  tack  on  my  patterns  all 
the  same." 

The  news  was  as  disagreeable  to  Fanny  as  it  had 
been  unexpected.  She  had  never  received  kindness 
from  her  aunt  Norris,  and  could  not  love  her. 

^^I  shall  be  very  sorry  to  go  away,"  said  she, 
with  a  faltering  voice. 

^^Yes,  I  dare  say  you  will;  that's  natural 
enough.    I  suppose  you  have  had  as  little  to  vex 

VOL.  I. —  3 


34 


MANSEIELD  PARK. 


you  since  you  came  into  this  house  as  any  creature 
in  the  world.  ^' 

I  hope  I  am  not  ungrateful,  aunt/'  said  Eanny, 
modestly. 

^'InTo,  my  dear;  I  hope  not.  I  have  always 
found  you  a  very  good  girl.'' 

"  And  am  I  never  to  live  here  again?  " 

' '  Never,  my  dear ;  but  you  are  sure  of  a  com- 
fortable home.  It  can  make  very  little  difference 
to  you,  whether  you  are  in  one  house  or  the  other." 

Fanny  left  the  room  with  a  very  sorrowful  heart : 
she  could  not  feel  the  difference  to  be  so  small,  she 
could  not  think  of  living  with  her  aunt  with  any- 
thing like  satisfaction.  As  soon  as  she  met  with 
Edmund,  she  told  him  her  distress. 

Cousin,"  said  she,  something  is  going  to 
happen  which  I  do  not  like  at  all ;  and  though  you 
have  often  persuaded  me  into  being  reconciled  to 
things  that  I  disliked  at  first,  you  will  not  be  able 
to  do  it  now.  I  am  going  to  live  entirely  with  my 
aunt  Norris." 

^andeed!" 

^^Yes,  my  aunt  Bertram  has  just  told  me  so. 
It  is  quite  settled.  I  am  to  leave  Mansfield  Park, 
and  go  to  the  White  House,  I  suppose,  as  soon  as 
she  is  removed  there." 

Well,  Fanny,  and  if  the  plan  w^ere  not  un- 
pleasant to  you,  I  should  call  it  an  excellent  one." 
Oh,  cousin !  " 

^^It  has  everything  else  in  its  favor.  My  aunt 
is  acting  like  a  sensible  woman  in  wishing  for  you. 
She  is  choosing  a  friend  and  companion  exactly 
where  she  ought,  and  I  am  glad  her  love  of  money 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


35 


does  not  interfere.  You  will  be  what  you  ought 
to  be  to  her.  I  hope  it  does  not  distress  you  very 
much,  Fanny. 

Indeed  it  does;  I  cannot  like  it.  I  love  this 
house  and  everything  in  it;  I  shall  love  nothing 
there.  You  know  how  uncomfortable  I  feel  with 
her.'' 

"  I  can  say  nothing  for  her  manner  to  you  as  a 
child;  but  it  was  the  same  with  us  all,  or  nearly 
so.  She  never  knew  how  to  be  pleasant  to  chil- 
dren. But  you  are  now  of  an  age  to  be  treated 
better;  I  think  she  ^5  behaving  better  already;  and 
when  you  are  her  only  companion,  you  must  be  im- 
portant to  her.'' 

I  can  never  be  important  to  any  one." 

^^What  is  to  prevent  you?" 

'^Everything.  My  situation  —  my  foolishness 
and  awkwardness. ' ' 

'^As  to  your  foolishness  and  awkwardness,  my 
dear  Fanny,  believe  me,  you  never  have  a  shadow 
of  either,  but  in  using  the  words  so  improperly. 
There  is  no  reason  in  the  world  why  you  should 
not  be  important  where  you  are  known.  You  have 
good  sense  and  a  sweet  temper,  and  I  am  sure  you 
have  a  grateful  heart,  that  could  never  receive 
kindness  without  wishing  to  return  it.  I  do  not 
know  any  better  qualifications  for  a  friend  and 
companion." 

''You  are  too  kind,"  said  Fanny,  coloring  at 
such  praise;  "how  shall  I  ever  thank  you  as  I 
ought,  for  thinking  so  well  of  me?  Oh,  cousin,  if 
I  am  to  go  away,  I  shall  remember  your  goodness 
to  the  last  moment  of  my  life." 


36 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


^^Why,  indeed,  Fanny,  I  should  hope  to  "be  re- 
membered at  such  a  distance  as  the  White  House. 
You  speak  as  if  you  were  going  two  hundred  miles 
off,  instead  of  only  across  the  park;  but  you  will 
belong  to  us  almost  as  much  as  ever.  The  two 
families  will  be  meeting  every  day  in  the  year. 
The  only  difference  will  be  that,  living  with  your 
aunt,  you  will  necessarily  be  brought  forward  as 
you  ought  to  be.  Here  there  are  too  many  whom 
you  can  hide  behind;  but  with  her  you  will  be 
forced  to  speak  for  yourself.'^ 
Oh,  do  not  say  so." 

^^I  must  say  it,  and  say  it  with  pleasure.  Mrs. 
ISTorris  is  much  better  fitted  than  my  mother  for 
having  the  charge  of  you  now.  She  is  of  a  temper 
to  do  a  great  deal  for  anybody  she  really  interests 
herself  about,  and  she  will  force  you  to  do  justice 
to  your  natural  powers. 

Fanny  sighed,  and  said:  ''J.  cannot  see  things 
as  you  do;  but  I  ought  to  believe  you  to  be  right 
rather  than  myself,  and  I  am  very  much  obliged  to 
you  for  trying  to  reconcile  me  to  what  must  be.  If 
I  could  suppose  my  aunt  really  to  care  for  me,  it 
would  be  delightful  to  feel  myself  of  consequence 
to  anybody !  —  Here  I  know  I  am  of  none,  and 
yet  I  love  the  place  so  well." 

^^The  place,  Fanny,  is  what  you  will  not  quit, 
though  you  quit  the  house.  You  w^U  have  as  free 
a  command  of  the  park  and  gardens  as  ever.  Even 
your  constant  little  heart  need  not  take  fright  at 
such  a  nominal  change.  You  will  have  the  same 
walks  to  frequent,  the  same  library  to  choose  from, 
the  same  people  to  look  at,  the  same  horse  to  ride." 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


37 


^^Very  true.  Yes,  dear  old  gray  pony.  Ah, 
cousin,  when  I  remember  how  much  I  used  to 
dread  riding,  what  terrors  it  gave  me  to  hear  it 
talked  of  as  likely  to  do  me  good  (oh,  how  I 
have  trembled  at  my  uncle's  opening  his  lips  if 
horses  were  talked  of) ;  and  then  think  of  the  kind 
pains  you  took  to  reason  and  persuade  me  out  of  my 
fears,  and  convince  me  that  I  should  like  it  after 
a  little  while,  and  feel  how  right  you  proved  to 
be,  —  I  am  inclined  to  hope  you  may  always 
prophesy  as  welL" 

^^And  I  am  quite  convinced  that  your  being 
wdth  Mrs.  JSTorris  will  be  as  good  for  your  mind  as 
riding  has  been  for  your  health,  and  as  much  for 
your  ultimate  happiness  too.'' 

So  ended  their  discourse,  which,  for  any  very 
appropriate  service  it  could  render  Fanny,  might 
as  well  have  been  spared,  for  Mrs.  ISTorris  had  not 
the  smallest  intention  of  taking  her.  It  had  never 
occurred  to  her  on  the  present  occasion  but  as  a 
thing  to  be  carefully  avoided.  To  prevent  its 
being  expected,  she  had  fixed  on  the  smallest  hab- 
itation which  could  rank  as  genteel  among  the 
buildings  of  Mansfield  parish;  the  White  House 
being  only  just  large  enough  to  receive  herself  and 
her  servants,  and  allow  a  spare  room  for  a  friend, 
of  which  she  made  a  very  particular  point.  The 
spare  rooms  at  the  Parsonage  had  never  been 
wanted,  but  the  absolute  necessity  of  a  spare  room 
for  a  friend  was  now  never  forgotten.  Kot  all  her 
precautions,  however,  could  save  her  from  being 
suspected  of  something  better;  or  perhaps,  her 
very  display  of  the  importance  of  a  spare  room 


38 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


might  "have  misled  Sir  Thomas  to  suppose  it  really 
intended  for  Fanny.  Lady  Bertram  soon  brought 
the  matter  to  a  certainty,  by  carelessly  observing 
to  Mrs.  Norris,  — 

^^I  think,  sister,  we  need  not  keep  Miss  Lee 
any  longer,  when  Fanny  goes  to  live  with  you? 

Mrs.  IS^orris  almost  started.  ^^Live  with  me, 
dear  Lady  Bertram!  what  do  you  mean? 

^^Is  not  she  to  live  with  you?  I  thought  you 
had  settled  it  with  Sir  Thomas? 

'^Me!  never.  I  never  spoke  a  sjdlable  about  it 
to  Sir  Thomas,  nor  he  to  me.  Fanny  live  with 
me !  —  the  last  thing  in  the  world  for  me  to  think  of, 
or  for  anybody  to  wish  that  reallj^  knows  us  both. 
Good  heaven!  what  could  I  do  with  Fanny?  Me, 
a  poor,  helpless,  forlorn  widow,  unfit  for  anything, 
my  spirits  quite  broken  down,  — what  could  I  do 
with  a  girl  at  her  time  of  life;  a  girl  of  fifteen! 
the  very  age  of  all  others  to  need  most  attention 
and  care,  and  put  the  cheerfullest  spirits  to  the 
test.  Sure,  Sir  Thomas  could  not  seriously  expect 
such  a  thing!  Sir  Thomas  is  too  much  my  friend. 
Nobody  that  wishes  me  well,  I  am  sure,  would 
propose  it.  How  came  Sir  Thomas  to  speak  to 
you  about  it? 

"  Indeed,  I  do  not  know.  I  suppose  he  thought 
it  best.'' 

^^But  what  did  he  say?  He  could  not  say  he 
wished  me  to  take  Fanny.  I  am  sure  in  his  heart 
he  could  not  wish  me  to  do  it." 

^^No,  he  only  said  he  thought  it  very  likely,  — 
and  I  thought  so  too.  We  both  thought  it  would 
be  a  comfort  to  you.    But  if  you  do  not  like  it, 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


39 


there  is  no  more  to  be  said.  She  is  no  incum- 
brance here.'^ 

^^Dear  sister!  If  you  consider  my  unhappy 
state,  how  can  she  be  any  comfort  to  me?  Here 
am  I,  a  poor  desolate  widow,  deprived  of  the  best 
of  husbands,  my  health  gone  in  attending  and 
nursing  him,  my  spirits  still  worse,  all  my  peace 
in  this  world  destroyed,  with  barely  enough  to 
support  me  in  the  rank  of  a  gentlewoman,  and 
enable  me  to  live  so  as  not  to  disgrace  the  memory 
of  the  dear  departed,  —  what  possible  comfort  could 
I  have  in  taking  such  a  charge  upon  me  as  Fanny? 
If  I  could  wish  it  for  my  own  sake,  I  would  not  do 
so  unjust  a  thing  by  the  poor  girl.  She  is  in  good 
hands,  and  sure  of  doing  well.  I  must  struggle 
through  my  sorrows  and  difficulties  as  I  can.'' 

^^Then  you  will  not  mind  living  by  yourself 
quite  alone?  " 

^^Dear  Lady  Bertram!  what  am  I  fit  for  but 
solitude?  ISiow  and  then  I  shall  hope  to  have  a 
friend  in  my  little  cottage  (I  shall  always  have  a 
bed  for  a  friend) ;  but  the  most  part  of  my  future 
days  will  be  spent  in  utter  seclusion.  If  I  can 
but  make  both  ends  micet,  that  's  all  I  ask  for.'' 

"  I  hope,  sister,  things  are  not  so  very  bad  with 
you  neither,  — considering  Sir  Thomas  says  you 
will  have  six  hundred  a  year." 

^^Lady  Bertram,  I  do  not  complain.  I  know  I 
cannot  live  as  I  have  done,  but  I  must  retrench 
where  I  can,  and  learn  to  be  a  better  manager.  1 
have  been  a  liberal  housekeeper  enough,  but  I 
shall  not  be  ashamed  to  practise  economj^  now. 
My  situation  is  as  much  altered  as  my  income,  A 


40 


MANSFIELD  PAKE. 


great  many  things  were  due  from  poor  Mr.  Norris 
as  clergyman  of  tlie  parish  that  cannot  be  expected 
from  me.  It  is  unknown  how  much  was  consumed 
in  our  kitchen  by  odd  comers  and  goers.  At  the 
White  House  matters  must  be  better  looked  after. 
I  must  live  within  my  income,  or  I  shall  be  mis- 
erable ;  and  I  own  it  would  give  me  great  satisfac- 
tion to  be  able  to  do  rather  more,  — to  lay  by  a 
little  at  the  end  of  the  year.'^ 

^^I  dare  say  you  will.  You  always  do,  don't 
you?" 

^^My  object,  Lady  Bertram,  is  to  be  of  use  to 
those  that  come  after  me.  It  is  for  your  children's 
good  that  I  wish  to  be  richer.  I  have  nobody  else 
to  care  for;  but  I  should  be  very  glad  to  think  I 
could  leave  a  little  trifle  among  them  worth  their 
having. 

You  are  very  good,  but  do  not  trouble  yourself 
about  them.  They  are  sure  of  being  well  pro- 
vided for.    Sir  Thomas  will  take  care  of  that.'' 

Why,  you  know  Sir  Thomas's  means  will  be 
rather  straitened,  if  the  Antigua  estate  is  to  make 
such  poor  returns." 

^^Oh,  that  will  soon  be  settled.  Sir  Thomas 
has  been  writing  about  it,  I  know." 

^^Well,  Lady  Bertram,"  said  Mrs.  l^orris,  mov- 
ing to  go,  ^^I  can  only  say  that  my  sole  desire  is 
to  be  of  use  to  your  family;  and  so  if  Sir  Thomas 
should  ever  speak  again  about  my  taking  Fanny, 
you  will  be  able  to  say  that  my  health  and  spirits 
put  it  quite  out  of  the  question,  — besides  that,  I 
really  should  not  have  a  bed  to  give  her,  for  I 
must  keep  a  spare  room  for  a  friend." 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


41 


Lady  Bertram  repeated  enough  of  tliis  conver- 
sation to  her  hushand  to  convince  him  how  much 
he  had  mistaken  his  sister-in-hiw's  views;  and  she 
was  from  that  moment  perfectly  safe  from  all  ex- 
pectation, or  the  slightest  allusion  to  it  from  him. 
He  could  not  but  wonder  at  her  refusing  to  do 
anything  for  a  niece  whom  she  had  been  so  forward 
to  adopt;  but  as  she  took  early  care  to  make  him, 
as  well  as  Lady  Bertram,  understand  that  what- 
ever she  possessed  was  designed  for  their  family, 
he  soon  grew  reconciled  to  a  distinction  which  at 
the  same  time  that  it  was  advantageous  and  com- 
plimentary to  them  would  enable  him  better  to 
provide  for  Fanny  himself. 

Fanny  soon  learned  how  unnecessary  had  been 
her  fears  of  a  removal;  and  her  spontaneous,  un- 
taught felicity  on  the  discovery  conveyed  some 
consolation  to  Edmund  for  his  disappointment  in 
what  he  had  expected  to  be  so  essentially  service- 
able to  her.  Mrs.  ISTorris  took  possession  of  the 
White  House,  the  Grants  arrived  at  the  Parsonage ; 
and  these  events  over,  everything  at  Mansfield 
went  on  for  some  time  as  usual. 

The  Grants,  showing  a  disposition  to  be  friendly 
and  sociable,  gave  great  satisfaction  in  the  main 
among  their  new  acquaintance.  They  had  their 
faults,  and  Mrs.  ISTorris  soon  found  them  out.  The 
Doctor  was  very  fond  of  eating,  and  would  have  a 
good  dinner  every  day;  and  Mrs.  Grant,  instead 
of  contriving  to  gratify  him  at  little  expense,  gave 
her  cook  as  high  wages  as  they  did  at  Mansfield 
Park,  and  was  scarcely  ever  seen  in  her  offices. 
Mrs.  Norris  could  not  speak  with  any  temper  of 


42 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


siicli  grievances,  nor  of  the  quantity  of  butter  and 
eggs  that  were  regularly  consumed  in  the  house. 
^^I^obody  loved  plenty  and  hospitality  more  than 
herself,  —  nobody  more  hated  pitiful  doings,  —  the 
Parsonage  she  believed  had  never  been  wanting  in 
comforts  of  any  sort,  had  never  borne  a  bad  char- 
acter in  her  time ;  but  this  was  a  way  of  going  on 
that  she  could  not  understand.  A  fine  lady  in  a 
country  parsonage  was  quite  out  of  place.  Her 
storeroom  she  thought  might  have  been  good 
enough  for  Mrs.  Grant  to  go  into.  Inquire  where 
she  would,  she  could  not  find  out  that  Mrs..  Grant 
had  ever  had  more  than  five  thousand  pounds.'^ 

Lady  Bertram  listened  without  much  interest  to 
this  sort  of  invective.  She  could  not  enter  into 
the  wrongs  of  an  economist,  but  she  felt  all  the 
injuries  of  beauty  in  Mrs.  Grant's  being  so  well 
settled  in  life  without  being  handsome,  and  ex- 
pressed her  astonishment  on  that  point  almost  as 
often,  though  not  so  diffusely,  as  Mrs.  Norris 
discussed  the  other. 

These  opinions  had  been  hardly  canvassed  a  j^ear 
before  another  event  arose  of  such  importance  in 
the  family  as  might  fairly  claim  some  place  in  the 
thoughts  and  conversation  of  the  ladies.  Sir 
Thomas  found  it  expedient  to  go  to  Antigua  him- 
self, for  the  better  arrangement  of  his  affairs;  and 
he  took  his  eldest  son  with  him,  in  the  hope  of 
detaching  him  from  some  bad  connections  at  home. 
They  left  England  with  the  probability  of  being 
nearly  a  twelvemonth  absent. 

The  necessity  of  the  measure  in  a  pecuniary 
light,  and  the  hope  of  its  utility  to  his  son  recon- 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


43 


ciled  Sir  Thomas  to  the  effort  of  quitting  the  rest 
of  his  family,  and  of  leaving  his  daughters  to  the 
direction  of  others  at  their  present  most  interest- 
ing time  of  life.  He  could  not  think  Lady  Ber- 
tram quite  equal  to  supply  his  place  with  them,  or 
rather  to  perform  what  should  have  been  her  own; 
hut  in  Mrs.  Korris's  watchful  attention  and  in  Ed- 
mund's judgment  he  had  sufficient  confidence  to 
make  him  go  without  fears  for  their  conduct. 

Lady  Bertram  did  not  at  all  like  to  have  her 
husband  leave  her;  but  she  was  not  disturbed  by 
any  alarm  for  his  safety  or  solicitude  for  his  com- 
fort, being  one  of  those  persons  who  think  nothing 
can  be  dangerous  or  difficult  or  fatiguing  to  any- 
body but  themselves. 

The  Miss  Bertrams  were  much  to  be  pitied  on 
the  occasion,  —  not  for  their  sorrow,  but  for  their 
want  of  it.  Their  father  was  no  object  of  love  to 
them;  he  had  never  seemed  the  friend  of  their 
pleasures,  and  his  absence  was  unhappily  most 
welcome.  They  were  relieved  by  it  from  all  re- 
straint; and  without  aiming  at  one  gratification 
that  would  probably  have  been  forbidden  by  Sir 
Thomas,  they  felt  themselves  immediately  at  their 
own  disposal,  and  to  have  every  indulgence  wathin 
their  reach.  Eanny's  relief  and  her  consciousness 
of  it  were  quite  equal  to  her  cousin's;  but  a  more 
tender  nature  suggested  that  her  feelings  were  un- 
grateful, and  she  really  grieved  because  she  could 
not  grieve.  "  Sir  Thomas,  who  had  done  so  much 
for  her  and  her  brothers,  and  who  was  gone  per- 
haps never  to  return!  that  she  should  see  him  go 
without  a  tear!  it  was  a  shameful  insensibility.'' 


44 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


•He  had  said  to  her,  moreover,  on  the  very  last 
morning,  that  he  hoped  she  might  see  William 
again  in  the  course  of  the  ensuing  winter,  and  had 
charged  her  to  write  and  invite  him  to  Mansfield 
as  soon  as  the  squadron  to  which  he  belonged 
should  be  known  to  be  in  England.  ^^This  was 
so  thoughtful  and  kind!  and  would  he  only  have 
smiled  upon  her  and  called  her  my  dear  Fanny,'' 
while  he  said  it,  every  former  frown  or  cold  ad- 
dress might  have  been  forgotten.  But  he  had 
ended  his  speech  in  a  way  to  sink  her  in  sad  mor- 
tification, by  adding,  ^^If  William  does  come  to 
Mansfield,  I  hope  you  may  be  able  to  convince  him 
that  the  many  years  which  have  passed  since  you 
parted  have  not  been  spent  on  your  side  entirely 
without  improvement,  —  though  I  fear  he  must 
find  his  sister  at  sixteen  in  some  respects  too 
much  like  his  sister  at  ten.''  She  cried  bitterly 
over  this  reflection  when  her  uncle  was  gone;  and 
her  cousins,  on  seeing  her  with  red  eyeS;  set  her 
down  as  a  hypocrite. 


CHAPTEE  IV. 


Tom  Bertram  had  of  late  spent  so  little  of  his 
time  at  home  that  he  could  be  only  nominally 
missed;  and  Lady  Bertram  was  soon  astonished  to 
find  how  very  well  they  did  even  without  his 
father,  —  how  well  Edmund  could  supply  his  place 
in  carving,  talking  to  the  steward,  writing  to  the 
attorney,  settling  with  the  servants,  and  equally 
saving  her  from  all  possible  fatigue  or  exertion  in 
every  particular  but  that  of  directing  her  letters. 

The  earliest  intelligence  of  the  travellers'  safe 
arrival  in  Antigua,  after  a  favorable  voyage,  was 
received;  though  not  before  Mrs.  Norris  had  been 
indulging  in  very  dreadful  fears,  and  trying  to 
make  Edmund  participate  them  whenever  she  could 
get  him  alone ;  and  as  she  depended  on  being  the 
first  person  made  acquainted  with  any  fatal  catas- 
trophe, she  had  already  arranged  the  manner  of 
breaking  it  to  all  the  others,  when  Sir  Thomas's 
assurances  of  their  both  being  alive  and  well  made 
it  necessary  to  lay  by  her  agitation  and  affectionate 
preparatory  speeches  for  a  while. 

The  winter  came  and  passed  without  their  being 
called  for;  the  accounts  continued  perfectly  good; 
and  Mrs.  ISTorris,  in  promoting  gayeties  for  her 
nieces,  assisting  their  toilettes,  displaying  their 


46 


MANSFIELD  PAEK. 


accomplisliments,  and  looking  about  for  their  fu- 
ture husbands,  had  so  much  to  do  as,  in  addition 
to  all  her  own  household  cares,  some  interference 
in  those  of  her  sister,  and  Mrs.  Grant's  wasteful 
doings  to  overlook,  left  her  very  little  occasion  to 
be  occupied  even  in  fears  for  the  absent. 

The  Miss  Bertrams  were  now  fully  established 
among  the  belles  of  the  neighborhood;  and  as  they 
joined  to  beauty  and  brilliant  acquirements  a  man- 
ner naturally  easy,  and  carefully  formed  to  general 
civility  and  obligingness,  they  possessed  its  favor 
as  well  as  its  admiration.  Their  vanity  was  in 
such  good  order  that  they  seemed  to  be  quite  free 
from  it,  and  gave  themselves  no  airs;  while  the 
praises  attending  such  behavior,  secured  and 
brought  round  by  their  aunt,  served  to  strengthen 
them  in  believing  they  had  no  faults. 

Lady  Bertram  did  not  go  into  public  wnth  her 
daughters.  She  was  too  indolent  even  to  ac- 
cept a  mother's  gratification  in  witnessing  their 
success  and  enjoyment  at  the  expense  of  any  per- 
sonal trouble ;  and  the  charge  was  made  over  to  her 
sister,  who  desired  nothing  better  than  a  post  of 
such  honorable  representation,  and  very  thor- 
oughly relished  the  means  it  afforded  her  of  mix- 
ing in  society  without  having  horses  to  hire. 

Fanny  had  no  share  in  the  festivities  of  the  sea- 
son; but  she  enjoyed  being  avowedly  useful  as  her 
aunt's  companion,  when  they  called  away  the  rest 
of  the  family;  and  as  Miss  Lee  had  left  Mansfield, 
she  naturally  became  everything  to  Lady  Bertram 
during  the  night  of  a  ball  or  a  party.  She  talked 
to  her,  listened  to  her,  read  to  her;  and  the  tran- 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


47 


quill ity  of  such  evenings^  her  perfect  security  in 
such  a  tete-a-tete  from  any  sound  of  unkinclness, 
was  unspeakably  welcome  to  a  mind  w^iich  had 
seldom  known  a  pause  in  its  alarms  or  embarrass- 
ments. As  to  her  cousins'  gayeties,  she  loved  to 
hear  an  account  of  them,  especially  of  the  balls 
and  whom  Edmund  had  danced  with;  but  thought 
too  lowly  of  her  own  situation  to  imagine  she 
should  ever  be  admitted  to  the  same,  and  listened 
therefore  without  an  idea  of  any  nearer  concern  in 
them.  Upon  the  whole,  it  was  a  comfortable  win- 
ter to  her;  for  though  it  brought  no  William  to 
England,  the  never-failing  hope  of  his  arrival  w^as 
worth  much. 

The  ensuing  sj^ring  deprived  her  of  her  valued 
friend  the  old  gray  pony,  and  for  some  time  she 
was  in  danger  of  feeling  the  loss  in  her  health  as 
well  as  in  her  affections;  for  in  spite  of  the  ac- 
knowledged importance  of  her  riding  on  horseback, 
no  measures  w^ere  taken  for  mounting  her  again, 

because,''  as  it  was  observed  by  her  aunts,  ^^she 
might  ride  one  of  her  cousins'  horses  at  any  time 
when  they  did  not  want  them;  "  and  as  the  Miss 
Bertrams  regularly  wanted  their  horses  every  fine 
day,  and  had  no  idea  of  carrying  their  obliging 
manners  to  the  sacrifice  of  any  real  pleasure,  that 
time,  of  course,  never  came.  They  took  their 
cheerful  rides  in  the  fine  mornings  of  April  and 
May;  and  Fanny  either  sat  at  home  the  whole 
day  with  one  aunt,  or  walked  beyond  her  strength 
at  the  instigation  of  the  other,  — Lady  Bertram 
holding  exercise  to  be  as  unnecessary  for  every- 
body as  it  was  unpleasant  to  herself;  and  Mrs. 


48 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


Korris,  who  was  walking  all  day,  thinking  every- 
body ought  to  walk  as  much.  Edmund  was  absent 
at  this  time,  or  the  evil  would  have  been  earlier 
remedied.  When  he  returned,  to  understand  how 
Fanny  was  situated,  and  perceived  its  ill  effects, 
there  seemed  with  him  but  one  thing  to  be  done; 
and  that  Fanny  must  have  a  horse  was  the 
resolute  declaration  with  which  he  opposed  what- 
ever could  be  urged  by  the  supineness  of  his 
mother,  or  the  economy  of  his  aunt,  to  make  it 
appear  unimportant.  Mrs.  Norris  could  not  help 
thinking  that  some  steady  old  thing  might  be 
found  among  the  numbers  belonging  to  the  Park, 
that  would  do  vastly  well;  or  that  one  might  be 
borrowed  of  the  steward;  or  that  perhaps  Dr. 
Grant  might  now  and  then  lend  them  the  pony 
he  sent  to  the  post.  She  could  not  but  consider  it 
as  absolutely  unnecessary  and  even  improper,  that 
Fanny  should  have  a  regular  lady's  horse  of  her 
own,  in  the  style  of  her  cousins.  She  was  sure  Sir 
Thomas  had  never  intended  it;  and  she  must  say 
that  to  be  making  such  a  purchase  in  his  absence, 
and  adding  to  the  great  expenses  of  his  stable  at 
a  time  when  a  large  part  of  his  income  was  unset- 
tled, seemed  to  her  very  unjustifiable.  Fanny 
must  have  a  horse,"  was  Edmund's  only  reply. 
Mrs.  ISTorris  could  not  see  it  in  the  same  light. 
Lady  Bertram  did;  she  entirely  agreed  with  her 
son  as  to  the  necessity  of  it,  and  as  to  its  be- 
ing considered  necessary  by  his  father:  she  only 
pleaded  against  there  being  any  hurry;  she  only 
wanted  him  to  wait  till  Sir  Thomas's  return,  and 
then  Sir  Thomas  might  settle  it  all  himself.  He 


IVIANSFIELD  PARK. 


49 


would  be  at  home  in  September,  and  where  would 
be  the  harm  of  only  waiting  till  September? 

Though  Edmund  was  much  more  displeased  with 
his  aunt  than  with  his  mother,  as  evincing  least 
regard  for  her  niece,  he  could  not  help  paying  more 
attention  to  what  she  said,  and  at  length  deter- 
mined on  a  method  of  proceeding  which  would  ob- 
viate the  risk  of  his  father's  thinking  he  had  done 
too  much,  and  at  the  same  time  procure  for  Fanny 
the  immediate  means  of  exercise,  which  he  could 
not  bear  she  should  be  without.  He  had  three 
horses  of  his  own,  but  not  one  that  WV)uld  carry  a 
woman.  Two  of  them  were  hunters;  the  third,  a 
useful  road-horse :  this  third  he  resolved  to  ex- 
change for  one  that  his  cousin  might  ride;  he 
knew  where  such  a  one  was  to  be  met  with ;  and 
having  once  made  up  his  mind,  the  whole  business 
was  soon  completed.  The  new  mare  proved  a 
treasure;  with  a  very  little  trouble,  she  became 
exactly  calculated  for  the  purpose,  and  Fanny  was 
then  put  in  almost  full  possession  of  her.  She  had 
not  supposed  before,  that  anything  could  ever  suit 
her  like  the  old  gray  pony;  but  her  delight  in  Ed- 
mund's mare  was  far  beyond  any  former  pleasure 
of  the  sort;  and  the  addition  it  was  ever  receiving 
in  the  consideration  of  that  kindness  from  which 
her  pleasure  sprung,  was  beyond  all  her  words  to 
express.  She  regarded  her  cousin  as  an  exam- 
ple of  everything  good  and  great,  as  possessing 
worth  which  no  one  but  herself  could  ever  appre- 
ciate, and  as  entitled  to  such  gratitude  from  her 
as  no  feelings  could  be  strong  enough  to  pay. 
Her  sentiments  towards  him  were  compounded 


50 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


of  all  that  was  respectful,  grateful,  confiding, 
and  tender. 

As  the  horse  continued  in  name,  as  well  as 
fact,  the  property  of  Edmund,  Mrs.  Norris  could 
tolerate  its  being  for  Fanny'"s  use;  and  had  Lady 
Bertram  ever  thought  about  her  own  objection 
again,  he  might  have  been  excused  in  her  eyes 
for  not  waiting  till  Sir  Thomas's  return  in  Sep- 
tember, —  for  when  September  came,  Sir  Thomas 
was  still  abroad,  and  without  any  near  prospect 
of  finishing  his  business.  Unfavorable  circum- 
stances had*suddenly  arisen  at  a  moment  when 
he  was  beginning  to  turn  all  his  thoughts  towards 
England;  and  the  very  great  uncertainty  in  which 
everything  was  then  involved  determined  him 
on  sending  home  his  son,  and  waiting  the  final 
arrangement  by  himself.  Tom  arrived  safely, 
bringing  an  excellent  account  of  his  father's 
health;  but  to  very  little  purpose,  as  far  as  Mrs. 
Norris  was  concerned.  Sir  Thomas's  sending 
away  his  son  seemed  to  her  so  like  a  parent's 
care,  under  the  influence  of  a  foreboding  of  evil 
to  himself,  that  she  could  not  help  feeling  dread- 
ful presentiments;  and  as  the  long  evenings  of 
autumn  came  on,  was  so  terribly  haunted  by 
these  ideas,  in  the  sad  solitariness  of  her  cottage, 
as  to  be  obliged  to  take  daily  refuge  in  the  dining- 
room  of  the  Park.  The  return  of  winter  engage- 
ments, however,  was  not  without  its  effect;  and 
in  the  course  of  their  progress  her  mind  became 
so  pleasantly  occupied  in  superintending  the  for- 
tunes of  her  eldest  niece  as  tolerably  to  quiet 
her  nerves.    ^^If  poor  Sir  Thomas  were  fated 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


51 


never  to  return,  it  would  be  peculiarly  consoling 
to  see  their  dear  Maria  well  married/'  she  very 
often  thought;  always  when  they  were  in  the 
company  of  men  of  fortune,  and  particularly  on 
the  introduction  of  a  young  man  who  had  recently 
succeeded  to  one  of  the  largest  estates  and  finest 
places  in  the  country. 

Mr.  Eush worth  was  from  the  first  struck  with 
the  beauty  of  Miss  Bertram,  and,  being  inclined 
to  marry,  soon  fancied  himself  in  love.  He  was 
a  heavy  young  man,  with  not  more  than  common 
sense;  but  as  there  was  nothing  disagreeable  in 
his  figure  or  address,  the  young  lady  was  well 
pleased  with  her  conquest.  Being  now  in  her 
twenty-first  year,  Maria  Bertram  was  beginning 
to  think  matrimony  a  duty;  and  as  a  marriage 
with  Mr.  Kushworth  would  give  her  the  enjoy- 
ment of  a  larger  income  than  her  father's  as  well 
as  insure  her  the  house  in  town,  which  was  now 
a  prime  object,  it  became,  by  the  same  rule  of 
moral  obligation,  her  evident  duty  to  marry  Mr. 
Eush  worth  if  she  could.  Mrs.  ISTorris  was  most 
zealous  in  promoting  the  match,  by  every  sugges- 
tion and  contrivance  likely  to  enhance  its  desir- 
ableness to  either  party;  and,  among  other  means, 
by  seeking  an  intimacy  with  the  gentleman's 
mother,  who  at  present  lived  with  him,  and  to 
whom  she  even  forced  Lady  Bertram  to  go  through 
ten  miles  of  indifferent  road  to  pay  a  morning 
visit.  It  was  not  long  before  a  good  understand- 
ing took  place  between  this  lady  and  herself. 
Mrs.  Rushworth  acknowledged  herself  very  desi- 
rous  that  her  son  should  marry,  and  declared 


62 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


that  of  all  the  young  ladies  she  had  ever  seen, 
Miss  Bertram  seemed,  by  her  amiable  qualities 
and  accomplishments,  the  best  adapted  to  make 
him  happy.  Mrs.  Norris  accepted  the  compli- 
ment, and  admired  the  nice  discernment  of  charac- 
ter which  could  so  well  distinguish  merit.  Maria 
was  indeed  the  pride  and  delight  of  them  all, — 
perfectly  faultless,  an  angel,  —  and  of  course,  so 
surrounded  by  admirers,  must  be  difficult  in  her 
choice;  but  yet,  as  far  as  Mrs.  Norris  could 
allow  herself  to  decide  on  so  short  an  acquaint- 
ance, Mr.  Rushworth  appeared  precisely  tlie  young 
man  to  deserve  and  attach  her. 

After  dancing  with  each  other  at  a  proper  num- 
ber of  balls,  the  young  people  justified  these  opin- 
ions; and  an  engagement,  with  a  due  reference  to 
the  absent  Sir  Thomas,  was  entered  into,  much  to 
the  satisfaction  of  their  respective  families,  and  of 
the  general  lookers-on  of  the  neighborhood,  who 
had  for  manj^  weeks  past  felt  the  expediency  of 
Mr.  Rushworth's  marrying  Miss  Bertram. 

It  was  some  months  before  Sir  Thomas's  consent 
could  be  received;  but  in  the  mean  while,  as  no 
one  felt  a  doubt  of  his  most  cordial  pleasure  in  the 
connection,  the  intercourse  of  the  two  families  was 
carried  on  without  restraint,  and  no  other  attempt 
made  at  secrecy  than  Mrs.  Norris's  talking  of  it 
everywhere  as  a  matter  not  to  be  talked  of  at 
present. 

Edmund  was  the  only  one  of  the  family  who 
could  see  a  fault  in  the  business;  but  no  represen- 
tation of  his  aunt's  could  induce  him  to  find  Mr. 
Bushworth  a  desirable  companion.   He  could  allow 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


53 


his  sister  to  be  the  best  judge  of  her  own  happiness, 
but  he  was  not  pleased  that  her  happiness  should 
centre  in  a  large  income;  nor  could  he  refrain  from 
often  saying  to  himself,  in  Mr.  Rushworth's  com- 
pany, ^^If  this  man  had  not  twelve  thousand  a 
year,  he  would  be  a  very  stupid  fellow.'^ 

Sir  Thomas,  however,  was  truly  happy  in  the 
prospect  of  an  alliance  so  unquestionably  advanta- 
geous, and  of  which  he  heard  nothing  but  the  per- 
fectly good  and  agreeable.  It  was  a  connection 
exactly  of  the  right  sort,  —  in  the  same  county 
and  the  same  interest,  —  and  his  most  hearty  con- 
currence was  conveyed  as  soon  as  possible.  He 
only  conditioned  that  the  marriage  should  not  take 
place  before  his  return,  which  he  was  again  looking 
eagerly  forward  to.  He  wrote  in  April,  and  had 
strong  hopes  of  settling  everything  to  his  entire 
satisfaction,  and  leaving  Antigua  before  the  end  of 
the  summer. 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  in  the  month  of 
July;  and  Fanny  had  just  reached  her  eighteenth 
year,  when  the  society  of  the  village  received  an 
addition  in  the  brother  and  sister  of  Mrs.  Grant, 
a  Mr.  and  Miss  Crawford,  the  children  of  her 
mother  by  a  second  marriage.  They  were  young 
people  of  fortune.  The  son  had  a  good  estate  in 
Norfolk;  the  daughter  twenty  thousand  pounds. 
As  children,  their  sister  had  always  been  very  fond 
of  them ;  but  as  her  own  marriage  had  been  soon 
followed  by  the  death  of  their  common  parent, 
which  left  them  to  the  care  of  a  brother  of  their 
father,  of  whom  Mrs.  Grant  knew  nothing,  she 
had  scarcely  seen  them  since.    In  their  nucleus 


54 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


house  tliey  had  found  a  kind  home.  Admiral  and 
Mrs.  Crawford,  though  agreeing  in  nothing  else, 
were  united  in  affection  for  these  children,  or,  at 
least,  were  no  further  adverse  in  their  feelings 
than  that  each  had  their  favorite,  to  whom  they 
showed  the  greatest  fondness  of  the  two.  The  Ad- 
miral delighted  in  the  boy,  Mrs.  Crawford  doted 
on  the  girl;  and  it  was  the  lady's  death  which  now 
obliged  her  protegee,  after  some  months'  further 
trial  at  her  uncle's  house,  to  find  another  home. 
Admiral  Crawford  was  a  man  of  vicious  conduct, 
who  chose,  instead  of  retaining  his  niece,  to  bring 
his  mistress  under  his  own  roof;  and  to  this  Mrs. 
Grant  was  indebted  for  her  sister's  proposal  of 
coming  to  her,  —  a  measure  quite  as  welcome  on  one 
side  as  it  could  be  expedient  on  the  other;  for  Mrs. 
Grant,  having  by  this  time  run  through  the  usual 
resources  of  ladies  residing  in  the  country  without 
a  family  of  children,  — having  more  than  filled 
her  favorite  sitting-room  with  pretty  furniture, 
and  made  a  choice  collection  of  plants  and  poultry, 
—  was  very  much  in  want  of  some  variety  at  home. 
The  arrival,  therefore,  of  a  sister  whom  she  had 
always  loved,  and  now  hoped  to  retain  with  her  as 
long  as  she  remained  single,  was  highly  agreeable; 
and  her  chief  anxiety  was  lest  Mansfield  should 
not  satisfy  the  habits  of  a  young  woman  who  had 
been  mostly  used  to  London. 

Miss  Crawford  was  not  entirely  free  from  similar 
apprehensions,  though  they  arose  principally  from 
doubts  of  her  sister's  style  of  living  and  tone  of 
society ;  and  it  was  not  till  after  she  had  tried  in 
vain  to  persuade  her  brother  to  settle  with  her  at 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


55 


his,  own  country  house,  that  she  could  resolve  to 
hazard  herself  among  her  other  relations.  To  any- 
thing like  a  permanence  of  abode  or  limitation  of 
society,  Henry  Crawford  had,  unluckily,  a  great 
dislike :  he  could  not  accommodate  his  sister  in  an 
article  of  such  importance;  but  he  escorted  her 
with  the  utmost  kindness  into  ISTorthamptonshirej 
and  as  readily  engaged  to  fetch  her  away  again,  at 
half  an  hour's  notice,  whenever  she  were  w^eary  of 
the  place. 

The  meeting  was  very  satisfactory  on  each  side. 
Miss  Crawford  found  a  sister  without  preciseness 
or  rusticity,  a  sister's  husband  who  looked  the 
gentleman,  and  a  house  commodious  and  well-fitted 
up;  and  Mrs.  Grant  received  in  those  whom  she 
hoped  to  love  better  than  ever,  a  young  man  and 
woman  of  very  prepossessing  appearance.  Mary 
Crawford  was  remarkably  pretty;  Henry,  though 
not  handsome,  had  air  and  countenance;  the  man- 
ners of  both  were  lively  and  pleasant,  and  Mrs. 
Grant  immediately  gave  them  credit  for  everything 
else.  She  was  delighted  with  each,  but  Mary  was 
her  dearest  object;  and  having  never  been  able  to 
glory  in  beauty  of  her  own,  she  thoroughly  enjoyed 
the  power  of  being  proud  of  her  sister's.  She  had 
not  waited  her  arrival  to  look  out  for  a  suitable 
match  for  her ;  she  had  fixed  on  Tom  Bertram :  the 
eldest  son  of  a  Baronet  was  not  too  good  for  a  girl 
of  twenty  thousand  pounds,  with  all  the  elegance 
and  accomplishments  w^hich  Mrs.  Grant  foresaw  in 
her;  and  being  a  warm-hearted,  unreserved  woman, 
Mary  had  not  been  three  hours  in  the  house  before 
she  told  her  what  she  had  planned. 


56 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


Miss  Crawford  was  glad  to  find  a  family  of  such 
consequence  so  very  near  tliem,  and  not  at  all  dis- 
pleased, either  at  her  sister's  early  care  or  the 
choice  it  had  fallen  on.  Matrimony  was  her  object, 
provided  she  could  marry  well ;  and  having  seen 
Mr.  Bertram  in  town,  she  knew  that  objection 
could  no  more  be  made  to  his  person  than  to  his 
situation  in  life.  While  she  treated  it  as  a  joke, 
therefore,  she  did  not  forget  to  think  of  it  seri- 
ously.   The  scheme  was  soon  repeated  to  Henry. 

^^And  now,'^  added  Mrs.  Grant,  ^^I  have 
thought  of  something  to  make  it  quite  complete. 
I  should  dearly  love  to  settle  you  both  in  this 
country;  and  therefore,  Henry,  you  shall  marry 
the  youngest  Miss  Bertram,  —  a  nice,  handsome, 
good-humored,  accomplished  girl,  who  will  make 
you  very  happy.'' 

Henry  bowed,  and  thanked  her. 

My  dear  sister,"  said  Mar}^,  ^^if  you  can  per- 
suade him  into  anything  of  the  sort,  it  will  be  a 
fresh  matter  of  delight  to  me  to  find  myself  allied 
to  anybody  so  clever,  and  I  shall  only  regret  that 
you  have  not  half-a-dozen  daughters  to  dispose  of. 
If  you  can  persuade  Henry  to  marry,  you  must 
have  the  address  of  a  Frenchwoman.  All  that 
English  abilities  can  do  has  been  tried  already.  I 
have  three  very  particular  friends  who  have  been 
all  dying  for  him  in  their  turn;  and  the  pains 
which  they,  their  mothers  (very  clever  women),  as 
well  as  my  dear  aunt  and  myself,  have  taken  to 
reason,  coax,  or  trick  him  into  marrying,  is  in- 
conceivable! He  is  the  most  horrible  flirt  that 
can  be  imagined.    If  your  Miss  Bertrams  do  not 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


57 


like  to  have  their  hearts  broke^  let  them  avoid 
Henry/' 

^^My  dear  brother,  I  will  not  believe  this  of 
you.'' 

'^^Of  I  am  sure  you  are  too  good.  You  will  be 
kinder  than  Mary.  You  will  allow  for  the  doubts 
of  youth  and  inexperience.  I  am  of  a  cautious 
temper,  and  unwilling  to  risk  my  happiness  in  a 
hurry.  Nobody  can  think  more  highly  of  the  ma- 
trimonial state  than  myself.  I  consider  the  bless- 
ing of  a  wife  as  most  justly  described  in  those 
discreet  lines  of  the  poet,  '  Heaven's  last,  best 
gift.'" 

There,  Mrs.  Grant,  you  see  how  he  dwells  on 
one  word,  and  only  look  at  his  smile !  I  assure  you 
he  is  very  detestable,  — the  Admiral's  lessons  have 
quite  spoiled  him." 

^^I  pay  very  little  regard,"  said  Mrs.  Grant, 
^'to  what  any  young  person  says  on  the  subject  of 
marriage.  If  they  profess  a  disinclination  for  it, 
I  only  set  it  down  that  they  have  not  yet  seen  the 
right  person." 

Dr.  Grant  laughingly  congratulated  Miss  Craw- 
ford on  feeling  no  disinclination  to  the  state 
herself. 

^^Oh,  yes,  I  am  not  at  all  ashamed  of  it.  I 
would  have  everybody  marry  if  they  can  do  it 
properly.  I  do  not  like  to  have  people  throw  them- 
selves away;  but  everybody  should  marry  as  soon 
as  they  can  do  it  to  advantage." 


CHAPTER  V. 


The  young  people  were  pleased  with  each  other 
from  the  first.  On  each  side  there  was  much  to 
attract,  and  their  acquaintance  soon  promised  as 
early  an  intimacy  as  good  manners  would  warrant. 
Miss  Crawford's  beauty  did  her  no  disservice  with 
the  Miss  Bertrams.  They  were  too  handsome 
themselves  to  dislike  any  woman  for  being  so  too, 
and  were  almost  as  much  charmed  as  their  brothers 
with  her  lively  dark  eye,  clear  brown  complexion, 
and  general  prettiness.  Had  she  been  tall,  full 
formed,  and  fair,  it  might  have  been  more  of  a 
trial:  but  as  it  was,  there  could  be  no  comparison; 
and  she  was  most  allowably  a  sweet  pretty  girl, 
while  they  were  the  finest  young  women  in  the 
country. 

Her  brother  was  not  handsome :  no,  when  they 
first  saw  him,  he  was  absolutely  plain,  black  and 
plain;  but  still  he  was  the  gentleman,  with  a 
pleasing  address.  The  second  meeting  proved 
him  not  so  very  plain:  he  was  plain,  to  be  sure; 
but  then  he  had  so  much  countenance,  and  his 
teeth  were  so  good^  and  he  was  so  well  made,  that 
one  soon  forgot  he  was  plain;  and  after  a  third 
interview,  after  dining  in  company  Vvdth  him  at 
the  Parsonage,  he  was  no  longer  allowed  to  be 
called  so  by  anybody.  He  was,  in  fact,  the  most 
agreeable  young  man  the  sisters  had  ever  known, 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


59 


and  they  were  equally  deliglited  with  him.  Miss 
Bertram's  engagement  made  him  in  equity  the 
property  of  Julia,  of  which  Julia  was  fully  aware; 
and  before  he  had  been  at  Mansfield  a  week  she 
was  quite  ready  to  be  fallen  in  love  with. 

Maria's  notions  on  the  subject  were  more  con- 
fused and  indistinct.  She  did  not  want  to  see  or 
understand.  There  could  be  no  harm  in  her 
liking  an  agreeable  man,  — everybody  knew  her 
situation,  — Mr.  Crawford  must  take  care  of  him- 
self.Mr.  Crawford  did  not  mean  to  be  in  any 
danger:  the  Miss  Bertrams  were  worth  pleasing, 
and  were  ready  to  be  pleased;  and  he  began  with 
no  object  but  of  making  them  like  him.  He  did  not 
want  them  to  die  of  love;  but  with  sense  and 
temper  which  ought  to  have  made  him  judge  and 
feel  better,  he  allowed  himself  great  latitude  on 
such  points. 

^^I  like  your  Miss  Bertrams  exceedingly,  sis- 
ter,'' said  he,  as  he  returned  from  attending  them 
to  their  carriage  after  the  said  dinner  visit;  '^thej 
are  very  elegant,  agreeable  girls." 

^•So  they  are,  indeed,  and  I  am  delighted  to 
hear  you  say  it.    But  you  like  Julia  best." 
Oh,  yes,  I  like  Julia  best." 

^^But  do  you  really?  for  Miss  Bertram  is  in 
general  thought  the  handsomest." 

^^So  I  should  suppose.  She  has  the  advantage 
in  every  feature,  and  I  prefer  her  countenance; 
but  I  like  Julia  best.  Miss  Bertram  is  certainly 
the  handsomest,  and  I  have  found  her  the  most 
agreeable;  but  I  shall  always  like  Julia  best,  be* 
cause  you  order  me." 


60 


MANSPIELD  PARK. 


I  shall  not  talk  to  you,  Henry,  but  I  know 
you  will  like  her  best  at  last/' 

^^Do  not  I  tell  you  that  I  like  her  best  at 
first?" 

^^And  besides,  Miss  Bertram  is  engaged. 
Remember  that,  my  dear  brother.  Her  choice 
is  made.'^ 

^^Yes,  and  I  like  her  the  better  for  it.  An 
engaged  woman  is  always  more  agreeable  than  a 
disengaged.  She  is  satisfied  with  herself.  Her 
cares  are  over,  and  she  feels  that  she  may  exert  all 
her  powers  of  pleasing  without  suspicion.  All  is 
safe  with  a  lady  engaged;  no  harm  can  be  done.'' 

^^Why,  as  to  that,  Mr.  Rush  worth  is  a  very 
good  sort  of  young  man,  and  it  is  a  great  match 
for  her." 

^^But  Miss  Bertram  does  not  care  three  straws 
for  him;  that  is  your  opinion  of  your  intimate 
friend.  I  do  not  subscribe  to  it.  I  am  sure  Miss 
Bertram  is  very  much  attached  to  Mr.  Rushworth. 
I  could  see  it  in  her  eyes,  when  he  was  mentioned. 
I  think  too  well  of  Miss  Bertram  to  suppose  she 
would  ever  give  her  hand  without  her  heart." 

^^Mary,  how  shall  we  manage  him?" 

^^We  must  leave  him  to  himself,  I  believe. 
Talking  does  no  good.  He  will  be  taken  in  at 
last." 

'^But  I  would  not  have  him  taken  in,  I  would 
not  have  him  duped;  I  would  have  it  all  fair  and 
honorable." 

^^Oh  dear,  — let  him  stand  his  chance  and  be 
taken  in.  It  will  do  just  as  well.  Everybody  is 
taken  in  at  some  period  or  other." 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


61 


'^ITot  always  in  marriage,  dear  Mary/' 
^^In  marriage  especially.  With  all  due  respect 
to  such  of  the  present  company  as  chance  to  be 
married,  my  dear  Mrs.  Grant,  there  is  not  one  in 
a  hundred  of  either  sex  who  is  not  taken  in  when 
they  marry.  Look  where  I  will,  I  see  that  it  is 
so;  and  I  feel  that  it  must  be  so,  whea  I  consider 
that  it  is,  of  all  transactions,  the  one  in  which 
people  expect  most  from  others,  and  are  least 
honest  themselves.'^ 

Ah!  You  have  been  in  a  bad  school  for  matri- 
mony, in  Hill  Street." 

"  My  poor  aunt  had  certainly  little  cause  to  love 
the  state;  but,  however,  speaking  from  my  own 
observation,  it  is  a  manoeuvring  business.  I 
know  so  many  who  have  married  in  the  full  ex- 
pectation and  confidence  of  some  one  particular 
advantage  in  the  connection,  or  accomplishment  or 
good  quality  in  the  person,  who  have  found  them- 
selves entirely  deceived,  and  been  obliged  to  put 
up  with  exactly  the  reverse!  What  is  this  but  a 
take  in?'' 

^^My  dear  child,  there  must  be  a  little  imagina- 
tion here.  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  I  cannot  quite 
believe  you.  Depend  upon  it,  you  see  but  half. 
You  see  the  evil,  but  jou  do  not  'jee  the  consola- 
tion. There  will  be  little  rubs  and  disappoint- 
ments everywhere,  and  we  are  all  apt  to  expect  too 
much;  but  then,  if  one  scheme  of  happiness  fails, 
human  nature  turns  to  another:  if  the  first  calcu- 
lation is  wrong,  we  make  a  second  better;  we  find 
comfort  somewhere,  —  and  those  evil-minded  ob- 
servers, dearest  Mary,  who  make  much  of  a  little, 


62 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


are  more  taken  in  and  deceived  than  the  parties 
themselves.'^ 

^'Well  done,  sister!  I  honor  your  esprit  du 
corps.  When  I  am  a  wife,  I  mean  to  be  just  as 
stanch  myself;  and  I  wish  my  friends  in  gen- 
eral would  be  so  too.  It  would  save  me  many 
a  heart-ache. 

'^You  are  as  bad  as  your  brother,  Mary;  but 
we  will  cure  you  both.  Mansfield  shall  cure  you 
both,  and  without  any  taking  in.  Stay  with  us, 
and  we  will  cure  you.'' 

The  CraAvfords,  without  wanting  to  be_  cured, 
were  very  willing  to  stay.  Mary  was  satisfied 
with  the  Parsonage  as  a  present  home,  and  Henry 
equally  ready  to  lengthen  his  visit.  He  had  come, 
intending  to  spend  only  a  few  days  with  them; 
but  Mansfield  promised  well,  and  there  was  noth- 
ing to  call  him  elsewhere.  It  delighted  Mrs. 
Grant  to  keep  them  both  with  her,  and  Dr.  Grant 
was  exceedingly  well  contented  to  have  it  so:  a 
talking  pretty  young  woman  like  Miss  Crawford  is 
alwaj^s  pleasant  society  to  an  indolent,  stay-at- 
home  man;  and  Mr.  Crawford's  being  his  guest 
was  an  excuse  for  drinking  claret  every  day. 

The  Miss  Bertrams'  admiration  of  Mr.  Craw- 
ford was  more  rapturous  than  anything  which  Miss 
Crawford's  habits  made  her  likely  to  feel.  She 
acknowledged,  however,  that  the  Mr.  Bertrams 
were  very  fine  young  men,  that  two  such  young 
men  were  not  often  seen  together  even  in  London, 
and  that  their  manners,  particularly  those  of  the 
eldest,  were  very  good.  He  had  been  much  in 
London,  and  had  more  liveliness  and  gallantry 


MANSEIELD  PARK. 


63 


than  Edmund,  and  must  therefore  be  preferred; 
and,  indeed,  his  being  the  eldest  was  another 
strong  claim.  She  had  felt  an  early  presentiment 
that  she  should  like  the  eldest  best.  She  knew  it 
was  her  way. 

Tom  Bertram  must  have  been  thought  pleasant, 
indeed,  at  any  rate ;  he  was  the  sort  of  young  man 
to  be  generally  liked,  his  agreeableness  was  of  the 
kind  to  be  often er  found  agreeable  than  some  en- 
dowments of  a  Iiigher  stamp,  for  he  had  easy  man- 
ners, excellent  spirits,  a  large  acquaintance,  and 
a  great  deal  to  say;  and  the  reversion  of  Mansfield 
Park,  and  a  baronetcy,  did  no  harm  to  all  this. 
Miss  Crawford  soon  felt  that  he  and  his  situation 
might  do.  She  looked  about  her  with  due  consid- 
eration, and  found  almost  everything  in  his  favor, 
—  a  park,  a  real  park  live  miles  round;  a  spacious 
modern-built  house,  so  well  placed  and  well 
screened  as  to  deserve  to  be  in  any  collection  of 
engravings  of  gentlemen's  seats  in  the  kingdom, 
and  wanting  only  to  be  completely  new  furnished; 
pleasant  sisters,  a  quiet  mother,  and  an  agree- 
able man  himself,  — with  the  advantage  of  being 
tied  up  from  much  gaming  at  present,  by  a  promise 
to  his  father,  and  of  being  Sir  Thomas  hereafter. 
It  might  do  very  well:  she  believed  she  should 
accept  him;  and  she  began  accordingly  to  interest 
herself  a  little  about  the  horse  which  he  had  to 
run  at  the  B  races. 

These  races  were  to  call  him  away  not  long  after 
their  acquaintance  began;  and  as  it  appeared  that 
the  family  did  not,  from  his  usual  goings  on,  ex- 
pect him  back  again  for  many  weeks;  it  would 


64 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


bring  liis  passion  to  an  early  proof.  Much  was 
said  on  his  side  to  induce  her  to  attend  the  races, 
and  schemes  were  made  for  a  large  party  to  them, 
with  all  the  eagerness  of  inclination;  but  it  would 
only  do  to  be  talked  of. 

And  Fanny,  — what  was  she  doing  and  thinking 
all  this  while,  and  what  was  her  opinion  of  the 
new-comers?  Few  young  ladies  of  eighteen  could 
be  less  called  on  to  speak  their  opinion  than 
Fanny.  In  a  quiet  way,  very  little  attended  to, 
she  paid  her  tribute  of  admiration  to  Miss  Craw- 
ford's beauty;  but  as  she  still  continued  to  think 
Mr.  Crawford  very  plain,  in  spite  of  her  two 
cousins  having  repeatedly  proved  the  contrary, 
she  never  mentioned  him.  The  notice  which  she 
excited  herself  was  to  this  effect.  ^^I  begin  now 
to  understand  you  all,  except  Miss  Price,  said 
Miss  Crawford,  as  she  was  walking  with  the  Mr. 
Bertrams.  ^^Pray,  is  she  out,  or  is  she  not?  I 
am  puzzled.  She  dined  at  the  Parsonage  with  the 
rest  of  you,  which  seemed  like  being  out;  and 
yet  she  says  so  little  that  I  can  hardl}^  suppose 
she  is.'' 

Edmund,  to  whom  this  was  chiefly  addressed, 
replied:  ^^I  believe  I  know  what  you  mean,  but 
I  will  not  undertake  to  answer  the  question.  My 
cousin  is  grown  up.  She  has  the  age  and  sense  of 
a  woman,  but  the  outs  and  not  outs  are  beyond 
me.'^ 

^^And  yet,  in  general,  nothing  can  be  more 
easily  ascertained.  The  distinction  is  so  broad. 
Manners  as  well  as  appearance  are,  generally 
speaking,  so  totallj^  different.    Till  now,  I  could 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


65 


not  have  supposed  it  possible  to  be  mistaken  as  to 
a  girl's  being  out  or  not.  A  girl  not  out  has 
always  the  same  sort  of  dress,  —  a  close  bonnet,  for 
instance,  — looks  very  demure,  and  never  says  a 
word.  You  may  smile,  but  it  is  so,  I  assure  you; 
and  except  that  it  is  sometimes  carried  a  little  too 
far,  it  is  all  very  proper.  Girls  should  be  quiet 
and  modest.  The  most  objectionable  part  is  that 
the  alteration  of  manners  on  being  introduced  into 
company  is  frequently  too  sudden.  They  some- 
times pass  in  such  very  little  time  from  reserve  to 
quite  the  opposite,  —  to  confidence !  That  is  the 
faulty  part  of  the  present  system.  One  does  not 
like  to  see  a  girl  of  eighteen  or  nineteen  so  imme- 
diately up  to  everything,  —  and  perhaps  when  one 
has  seen  her  hardly  able  to  speak  the  year  before. 
Mr.  Bertram,  I  dare  say  you  have  sometimes  met 
with  such  changes.'' 

^^I  believe  I  have:  but  this  is  hardly  fair;  I  see 
what  you  are  at.  You  are  quizzing  me  and  Miss 
Anderson." 

"^0,  indeed!  Miss  Anderson!  I  do  not  know 
who  or  what  you  mean.  I  am  quite  in  the  dark. 
But  I  will  quiz  you  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure, 
if  you  will  tell  me  what  about.'' 

' '  Ah !  you  carry  it  off  very  well,  but  I  cannot 
be  quite  so  far  imposed  on.  You  must  have  had 
Miss  Anderson  in  your  eye,  in  describing  an  al- 
tered young  lady.  You  paint  too  accurately  for 
mistake.  It  was  exactly  so.  The  Andersons  of 
Baker  Street.  We  were  speaking  of  them  the 
other  day,  you  know.  Edmund,  you  have  heard 
me  mention  Charles  Anderson.    The  circumstance 

VOL.  I.  —  5 


66 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


was  precisely  as  this  lady  has  represented  it. 
When  Anderson  first  introduced  me  to  his  family, 
ahout  two  years  ago,  his  sister  was  not  out,  and  I 
could  not  get  her  to  speak  to  me.  I  sat  there  an 
hour  one  morning  waiting  for  Anderson,  with  only 
her  and  a  little  girl  or  two  in  the  room,  the  gover- 
ness being  sick  or  run  away,  and  the  mother  in 
and  out  every  moment  with  letters  of  business; 
and  I  could  hardly  get  a  word  or  a  look  from 
the  young  lady,  —  nothing  like  a  civil  answer,  — 
she  screwed  up  her  mouth,  and  turned  from  me 
with  such  an  air!  I  did  not  see  her  again  for  a 
twelvemonth.  She  was  then  out.  I  met  her  at 
Mrs.  Holford's,  and  did  not  recollect  her.  She 
came  up  to  me,  claimed  me  as  an  acquaintance, 
stared  me  out  of  countenance,  and  talked  and 
laughed  till  I  did  not  know  which  way  to  look.  I 
felt  that  I  must  be  the  jest  of  the  room  at  the 
time;  and  Miss  Crawford,  it  is  plain,  has  heard 
the  story. 

And  a  very  pretty  story  it  is,  and  with  more 
truth  in  it,  I  dare  say,  than  does  credit  to  Miss 
Anderson.  It  is  too  common  a  fault.  Mothers 
certainly  have  not  yet  got  quite  the  right  way  of 
managing  their  daughters.  I  do  not  know  where 
the  error  lies.  I  do  not  pretend  to  set  people 
right,  but  I  do  see  that  they  are  often  wrong.'' 

Those  who  are  showing  the  world  what  female 
manners  should  be,''  said  Mr.  Bertram,  gallantly, 
^^are  doing  a  great  deal  to  set  them  right." 

^^The  error  is  plain  enough,"  said  the  less 
courteous  Edmund;  ^^such  girls  are  ill  brought 
up.    They  are  given  wrong  notions  from  the  be- 


MANSEIELD  PARK. 


67 


ginning.  They  are  always  acting  npon  motives 
of  vanity,  and  there  is  no  more  real  modesty  in 
their  behavior  before  they  appear  in  public  than 
afterwards.'' 

^^I  do  not  know/'  replied  Miss  Crawford,  hesi- 
tatingly. ^^Yes,  I  cannot  agree  with  you  there. 
It  is  certainly  the  modestest  part  of  the  business. 
It  is  much  worse  to  have  girls  not  out  give  them- 
selves the  same  airs  and  take  the  same  liberties  as 
if  they  were,  which  I  have  seen  done.  That  is 
worse  than  anything, — quite  disgusting!'' 

^^Yes,  that  is  very  inconvenient  indeed,"  said 
Mr.  Bertram.  ^^It  leads  one  astray;  one  does 
not  know  what  to  do.  The  close  bonnet  and  de- 
mure air  you  describe  so  well  (and  nothing  was 
ever  juster)  tell  one  what  is  expected;  but  I  got 
into  a  dreadful  scrape  last  year  from  the  want  of 
them.  I  went  down  to  Rams  gate  for  a  week  with 
a  friend  last  September,  just  after  my  return  from 
the  West  Indies.  My  friend  Sneyd,  —  you  have 
heard  me  speak  of  Sneyd,  Edmund,  — his  father 
and  mother  and  sisters  were  there,  all  new  to  me. 
When  we  reached  Albion  Place  they  were  out :  we 
went  after  them,  and  found  them  on  the  pier,  — 
Mrs.  and  the  two  Miss  Sneyds,  with  others  of  their 
acquaintance.  I  made  my  bow  in  form;  and  as 
Mrs.  Sneyd  was  surrounded  by  men,  attached  my- 
self to  one  of  her  daughters,  walked  by  her  side  all 
the  way  home,  and  made  myself  as  agreeable  as  I 
could,  —  the  young  lady  perfectly  easy  in  her 
manners,  and  as  ready  to  talk  as  to  listen.  I  had 
not  a  suspicion  that  I  could  be  doing  anything 
wrong.    They  looked  just  the  same, — both  well 


68 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


dressed,  with  veils  and  parasols  like  other  girls; 
but  I  afterwards  found  that  I  had  been  giving  all 
my  attention  to  the  youngest,  who  was  not  out, 
and  had  most  excessively  offended  the  eldest. 
Miss  Augusta  ought  not  to  have  been  noticed  for 
the  next  six  months;  and  Miss  Sneyd,  I  believe, 
has  never  forgiven  me.'^ 

^^That  was  bad  indeed.  Poor  Miss  Sneyd! 
Though  I  have  no  younger  sister,  I  feel  for  her. 
To  be  neglected  before  one's  time  must  be  very 
vexatious;  but  it  was  entirely  the  mother's  fault. 
Miss  Augusta  should  have  been  with  her  gover- 
ness. Such  half  and  half  doings  never  prosper. 
But  now  I  must  be  satisfied  about  Miss  Price. 
Does  she  go  to  balls?  Does  she  dine  out  every- 
where, as  well  as  at  my  sister's?'' 

^^No,"  replied  Edmund,  ^^I  do  not  think  she 
has  ever  been  to  a  ball.  My  mother  seldom  goes 
into  company  herself,  and  dines  nowhere  but  with 
Mrs.  Grant;  and  Fanny  stays  at  home  with  her." 

^^Oh,  then  the  point  is  clear.  Miss  Price  is 
not  out.'^ 


CHAPTEE  VI. 


Mil.  Bertram  set  off  for  ,  and  Miss  Crawford 

was  prepared  to  find  a  great  chasm  in  their  society, 
and  to  miss  him  decidedly  in  the  meetings  which 
were  now  becoming  almost  daily  between  the  fami- 
lies ;  and  on  their  all  dining  together  at  the  Park 
soon  after  his  going,  she  retook  her  chosen  place 
near  the  bottom  of  the  table,  fully  expecting  to 
feel  a  most  melancholy  difference  in  the  change  of 
masters.  It  would  be  a  very  flat  business,  she 
was  sure.  In  comparison  with  his  brother,  Ed- 
mund would  have  nothing  to  say.  The  soup 
would  be  sent  round  in  a  most  spiritless  manner, 
wine  drank  without  any  smiles  or  agreeable  tri- 
fling, and  the  venison  cut  up  without  supplying 
one  pleasant  anecdote  of  any  former  haunch,  or  a 
single  entertaining  story  about  ^^my  friend  such  a 
one.'^  She  must  try  to  find  amusement  in  what 
was  passing  at  the  upper  end  of  the  table,  and  in 
observing  Mr.  Rushworth,  who  was  now  making 
his  appearance  at  Mansfield  for  the  first  time  since 
the  Crawfords'  arrival.  He  had  been  visiting  a 
friend  in  a  neighboring  county,  and  that  friend 
having  recently  had  his  grounds  laid  out  by  an 
improver,  Mr.  Rushworth  was  returned  with  his 
head  full  of  the  subject,  and  very  eager  to  be  im- 
proving his  own  place  in  the  same  way;  and 


70 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


though  not  saying  much  to  the  purpose,  could  talk 
of  nothing  else.  The  subject  had  been  already 
handled  in  the  drawing-room;  it  was  revived  in 
the  dining-parlor.  Miss  Bertram's  attention  and 
opinion  was  evidently  his  chief  aim;  and  though 
her  deportment  showed  rather  conscious  superior- 
ity than  any  solicitude  to  oblige  him,  the  mention 
of  Sotherton  Court,  and  the  ideas  attached  to  it, 
gave  her  a  feeling  of  complacency,  which  prevented 
her  from  being  very  ungracious. 

^^I  wish  you  could  see  Compton,"  said  he;  it 
is  the  most  complete  thing!  I  never  saw  a  place 
so  altered  in  my  life.  I  told  Smith  I  did  not 
know  where  I  was.  The  approach  now  is  one  of 
the  finest  things  in  the  country;  you  see  the  house 
in  the  most  surprising  manner.  I  declare,  when  I 
got  back  to  Sotherton  yesterday,  it  looked  like  a 
prison, — quite  a  dismal  old  prison.'' 

^^Oh,  for  shame!"  cried  Mrs.  Norris.  A 
prison,  indeed!  Sotherton  Court  is  the  noblest 
old  place  in  the  world." 

^^It  wants  improvement,  ma'am,  beyond  any- 
thing. I  never  saw  a  place  that  wanted  so  much 
improvement  in  my  life;  and  it  is  so  forlorn  that 
I  do  not  know  what  can  be  done  with  it." 

' '  No  wonder  that  Mr.  Eushworth  should  think 
so  at  present,"  said  Mrs.  Grant  to  Mrs.  Norris, 
with  a  smile;  '^but  depend  upon  it,  Sotherton 
will  have  every  improvement  in  time  which  his 
heart  can  desire." 

"  I  must  try  to  do  something  with  it,"  said  Mr. 
Kush worth,  ^^but  I  do  not  know  what.  I  hope  I 
shall  have  some  good  friend  to  help  me." 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


71 


*^Your  best  friend  upon  such  an  occasion/'  said 
Miss  Bertram,  calmly,  ^Svould  be  Mr.  Eepton,  I 
imagine.'' 

^^Tliat  is  what  I  was  thinking  of.  As  he  has 
done  so  well  by  Smith,  I  think  I  had  better  have 
him  at  once.    His  terms  are  five  guineas  a  day.'' 

Well,  and  if  they  were  ten,"  cried  Mrs.  ISTorris, 
^^I  am  sure  you  need  not  regard  it.  The  expense 
need  not  be  any  impediment.  If  I  were  you,  I 
should  not  think  of  the  expense;  I  would  have 
everything  done  in  the  best  style,  and  made  as 
nice  as  possible.  Such  a  place  as  Sotherton  Court 
deserves  everything  that  taste  and  money  can  do. 
You  have  space  to  work  upon  there,  and  grounds 
that  will  well  reward  you.  For  my  own  part,  if 
I  had  an^^thing  within  the  fiftieth  part  of  the  size 
of  Sotherton,  I  should  be  always  planting  and  im- 
proving, for  naturally  I  am  excessively  fond  of  it. 
It  w^ould  be  too  ridiculous  for  me  to  attempt  any- 
thing where  I  am  now,  with  my  little  half  acre. 
It  would  be  quite  a  burlesque.  But  if  I  had  more 
room,  I  should  take  a  prodigious  delight  in  im- 
proving and  planting.  We  did  a  vast  deal  in  that 
way  at  the  Parsonage :  we  made  it  quite  a  different 
place  from  w^hat  it  was  w^hen  we  first  had  it.  You 
young  ones  do  not  remember  much  about  it,  per- 
haps :  but  if  dear  Sir  Thomas  were  here,  he  could 
tell  you  w^hat  improvements  we  made  ]  and  a  great 
deal  more  would  have  been  done,  but  for  poor  Mr. 
Norris's  sad  state  of  health.  He  could  hardly  ever 
get  out,  poor  man,  to  enjoy  anything,  and  that  dis- 
heartened  me  from  doing  several  things  that  Sir 
Thomas  and  I  used  to  talk  of.    If  it  had  not  been 


72 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


for  that,  we  should  have  carried  on  the  garden 
wall,  and  made  the  plantation  to  shut  out  the 
churchyard,  just  as  Dr.  Grant  has  done.  We  were 
always  doing  something,  as  it  was.  It  was  only 
the  spring  twelvemonth  before  Mr.  Norris's  death, 
that  we  put  in  the  apricot  against  the  stable  wall, 
which  is  now  grown  such  a  noble  tree,  and  getting 
to  such  perfection,  sir,'^  addressing  herself  then  to 
Dr.  Grant. 

The  tree  thrives  well  beyond  a  doubt,  madam,'' 
replied  Dr.  Grant.  "  The  soil  is  good;  and  I  never 
pass  it  without  regretting  that  the  fruit  should  be 
so  little  worth  the  trouble  of  gathering.''  * 

"  Sir,  it  is  a  moor  park,  we  bought  it  as  a  moor 
park,  and  it  cost  us  —  that  is,  it  was  a  present 
from  Sir  Thomas ;  but  I  saw  the  bill,  and  I  know 
it  cost  seven  shillings,  and  was  charged  as  a  moor 
park. " 

^^You  were  imposed  on,  ma'am,"  replied  Dr. 
Grant;  ^Hhese  potatoes  have  as  much  the  flavor  of 
a  moor-park  apricot  as  the  fruit  from  that  tree.  It 
is  an  insipid  fruit  at  the  best;  but  a  good  apricot 
is  eatable,  which  none  from  my  garden  are.'^ 

^^The  truth  is,  ma'am,"  said  Mrs.  Grant,  pre- 
tending to  whisper  across  the  table  to  Mrs.  Norris, 
^^that  Dr.  Grant  hardly  knows  what  the  natural 
taste  of  our  apricot  is;  he  is  scarcely  ever  indulged 
with  one,  for  it  is  so  valuable  a  fruit  with  a  little 
assistance,  and  ours  is  such  a  remarkably  large, 
fair  sort,  that  what  with  early  tarts  and  preserves 
my  cook  contrives  to  get  them  all." 

Mrs.  Norris,  who  had  begun  to  redden,  was  ap- 
peased; and  for  a  little  while  other  subjects  took 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


73 


place  of  the  improvements  of  Sotliertoii.  Dr.  Grant 
and  Mrs.  Il^orris  were  seldom  good  friends;  their 
acquaintance  had  begun  in  dilapidations^  and  their 
habits  were  totally  dissimilar. 

After  a  short  interruption  Mr.  Rushworth  began 
again.  "  Smith's  2)lace  is  the  admiration  of  all  the 
country;  and  it  was  a  mere  nothing  before  Eejjton 
took  it  in  hand.    T  think  I  shall  have  Eepton.'' 

^^Mr.  Rushworth/'  said  Lady  Bertram,  if  I 
were  you,  I  would  have  a  very  pretty  shrubbery. 
One  likes  to  get  out  into  a  shrubbery  in  tine 
weather. " 

Mr.  Rushworth  was  eager  to  assure  her  Ladyship 
of  his  acquiescence,  and  tried  to  make  out  some- 
thing complimentary;  but  between  his  submission 
to  her  taste,  and  his  having  always  intended  the 
same  himself,  with  the  superadded  objects  of  pro- 
fessing attention  to  the  comfort  of  ladies  in  gen- 
eral, and  of  insinuating  that  there  was  one  only 
whom  he  was  anxious  to  please,  he  grew  puzzled; 
and  Edmund  was  glad  to  put  an  end  to  his  speech 
by  a  proposal  of  wine.  Mr.  Rushworth,  however, 
though  not  usually  a  great  talker,  had  still  more 
to  say  on  the  subject  next  his  heart.  Smith  has 
not  much  above  a  hundred  acres  altogether  in  his 
grounds,  which  is  little  enough,  and  makes  it  more 
surprising  that  the  place  can  have  been  so  improved. 
Now,  at  Sotherton,  we  have  a  good  seven  hundred, 
without  reckoning  the  water  meadows;  so  that  I 
think,  if  so  much  could  be  done  at  Compton,  we  need 
not  despair.  There  have  been  two  or  three  fine  old 
trees  cut  down  that  grew  too  near  the  house,  and 
it  opens  the  prospect  amazingly,  which  makes  me 


74 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


think  that  Kepton,  or  anybody  of  that  sort,  would 
certainly  have  the  avenue  at  Sotherton  down,  — the 
avenue  that  leads  from  the  west  front  to  the  top  of 
the  hill,  you  know/'  turning  to  Miss  Bertram  par- 
ticularly, as  he  spoke.  But  Miss  Bertram  thought 
it  most  becoming  to  reply,  — 

^^The  avenue!  Oh,  I  do  not  recollect  it.  I 
veally  know  very  little  of  Sotherton. 

Fanny,  who  was  sitting  on  the  other  side  of  Ed- 
mund, exactly  opposite  Miss  Crawford,  and  who 
had  been  attentively  listening,  now  looked  at  him, 
and  said  in  a  low  voice,  — 

"  Out  down  an  avenue !  What  a  pity !  Does  not 
it  make  you  think  of  Cowper?  '  Ye  fallen  avenues, 
once  more  I  mourn  your  fate  unmerited.' '' 

He  smiled  as  he  answered,  ^^lam  afraid  the 
avenue  stands  a  bad  chance,  Fanny." 

"1  should  like  to  see  Sotherton  before  it  is  cut 
down,  to  see  the  place  as  it  is  now,  in  its  old  state; 
but  I  do  not  suppose  I  shall.'' 

^^Have  you  never  been  there?  No,  you  never 
can;  and  unluckily  it  is  out  of  distance  for  a  ride. 
I  wish  we  could  contrive  it." 

^^Oh,  it  does  not  signify.  Whenever  I  do  see 
it,  you  will  tell  me  how  it  has  been  altered." 

^^I  collect,"  said  Miss  Crawford,  ^^that  Sother- 
ton is  an  old  place,  and  a  place  of  some  grandeur. 
In  any  particular  style  of  building?  " 

^^The  house  was  built  in  Elizabeth's  time,  and 
is  a  large,  regular  brick  building,  —  heavy,  but  re- 
spectable-looking, and  has  many  good  rooms.  It 
is  ill-placed.  It  stands  in  one  of  the  lowest  spots 
of  the  park;  in  that  respect,  unfavorable  for  im- 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


75 


provement.  But  the  woods  are  fine,  and  there  is 
a  stream,  whicli,  I  dare  say,  might  be  made  a  good 
deal  of.  Mr.  Rushworth  is  quite  right,  I  think,  in 
meaning  to  give  it  a  modern  dress,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  that  it  will  be  all  done  extremely  well." 

Miss  Crawford  listened  with  submission,  and 
said  to  herself,  "  He  is  a  well-bred  man  5  he  makes 
the  best  of  it." 

I  do  not  wish  to  influence  Mr.  Eushworth," 
he  continued;  ^^but  had  I  a  place  to  new-fashion, 
I  should  not  put  myself  into  the  hands  of  an  im- 
prover. I  would  rather  have  an  inferior  degree  of 
beauty,  of  my  own  choice,  and  acquired  progres- 
sively. I  would  rather  abide  by  my  own  blunders 
than  by  his." 

^^You  would  know  what  you  were  about,  of 
course,  — but  that  would  not  suit  me.  I  have  no 
eye  or  ingenuity  for  such  matters,  but  as  they  are 
before  me;  and  had  I  a  place  of  my  own  in  the 
country,  I  should  be  most  thankful  to  any  Mr. 
Eepton  who  would  undertake  it,  and  give  me  as 
much  beauty  as  he  could  for  my  money;  and  I 
should  never  look  at  it  till  it  was  complete." 

^^It  would  be  delightful  to  me  to  see  the  prog- 
ress of  it  all,"  said  Fanny. 

Ay,  you  have  been  brought  up  to  it.  It  was 
no  part  of  my  education;  and  the  only  dose  I  ever 
had  being  administered  by  not  the  first  favorite  in 
the  world,  has  made  me  consider  improvements  in 
hand  as  the  greatest  of  nuisances.  Three  years 
ago  the  Admiral,  my  honored  uncle,  bought  a  cot- 
tage at  Twickenham  for  us  all  to  spend  our  sum- 
mers in;  and  my  aunt  and  I  went  down  to  it  quite 


76 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


in  raptures :  but  it  being  excessively  pretty,  it  was 
soon  found  necessary  to  be  improved;  and  for  three 
months  we  were  all  dirt  and  confusion,  without  a 
gravel  walk  to  step  on,  or  a  bench  fit  for  use.  I 
would  have  everything  as  complete  as  possible  in 
the  country,  shrubberies  and  flower-gardens,  and 
rustic  seats  innumerable :  but  it  must  be  all  done 
without  my  care.  Henry  is  different;  he  loves  to 
be  doing. 

Edmund  was  sorry  to  hear  Miss  Crawford,  whom 
he  was  much  disposed  to  admire,  speak  so  freely 
of  her  uncle.  It  did  not  suit  his  sense  of  pro- 
priety, and  he  was  silenced,  till  induced,  by  further 
smiles  and  liveliness,  to  put  the  matter  by  for  the 
present. 

^^Mr.  Bertram,"  said  she,  ^^I  have  tidings  of 
my  harp  at  last.  I  am  assured  that  it  is  safe  at 
Northampton ;  and  there  it  has  probably  been  these 
ten  days,  in  spite  of  the  solemn  assurances  we  have 
so  often  received  to  the  contrary."  Edmund  ex- 
pressed his  pleasure  and  surprise.  The  truth  is, 
that  our  inquiries  were  too  direct,  —  we  sent  a  ser- 
vant, we  went  ourselves;  this  will  not  do  seventy 
miles  from  London,  —  but  this  morning  we  heard 
of  it  in  the  right  way.  It  was  seen  by  some  farmer, 
and  he  told  the  miller,  and  the  miller  told  the 
butcher,  and  the  butcher's  son-in-law  left  word 
at  the  shop." 

^ '  I  am  very  glad  that  you  have  heard  of  it,  by 
whatever  means,  and  hope  there  will  be  no  further 
delay." 

^^I  am  to  have  it  to-morrow;  but  how  do  you 
think  it  is  to  be  conveyed?    Not  by  a  wagon  or 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


77 


cart,  —  oh,  no,  nothing  of  that  kind  could  be  hired 
in  the  village.  I  might  as  well  have  asked  for 
porters  and  a  hand-barrow.'^ 

^  ^  You  would  find  it  difficult,  I  dare  say,  just 
nov/,  in  the  middle  of  a  very  late  hay  harvest,  to 
hire  a  horse  and  cart? 

^'1  was  astonished  to  find  what  a  piece  of  work 
was  made  of  it!  To  want  a  horse  and  cart  in  the 
country  seemed  impossible,  so  I  told  my  maid  to 
speak  for  one  directly ;  and  as  I  cannot  look  out  of 
my  dressing-closet  without  seeing  one  farmyard, 
nor  walk  in  the  shrubbery  without  passing  another, 
I  thought  it  would  be  only  ask  and  have,  and  was 
rather  grieved  that  I  could  not  give  the  advantage 
to  all.  Guess  my  surprise,  when  I  found  that  I 
had  been  asking  the  most  unreasonable,  most  im- 
possible thing  in  the  world;  had  offended  all  the 
farmers,  all  the  laborers,  all  the  hay  in  the  parish. 
As  for  Dr.  Grant's  bailiff,  I  believe  I  had  bet- 
ter keep  out  of  his  way;  and  my  brother-in-law 
himself,  who  is  all  kindness  in  general,  looked 
rather  black  upon  me,  when  he  found  what  I  had 
been  at." 

You  could  not  be  expected  to  have  thought  on 
the  subject  before;  but  when  you  do  think  of  it, 
you  must  see  the  importance  of  getting  in  the 
grass.  The  hire  of  a  cart  at  any  time  might  not 
be  so  easy  as  you  suppose,  —  our  farmers  are  not  in 
the  habit  of  letting  them  out;  but  in  harvest 
it  must  be  quite  out  of  their  power  to  spare  a 
horse." 

^^I  shall  understand  all  your  ways  in  time;  but 
coming  down  with  the  true  London  maxim,  that 


78 


MANSFIELD  PARK 


everything  is  to  be  got  with  money,  I  was  a  little 
embarrassed  at  first  by  the  sturd}^  independence  of 
your  country  customs.  However,  I  am  to  have  my 
harp  fetched  to-morrow.  Henry,  who  is  good- 
nature itself,  has  offered  to  fetch  it  in  his  barouche. 
Will  it  not  be  honorably  conveyed? 

Edmund  spoke  of  the  harp  as  his  favorite  instru- 
ment, and  hoped  to  be  soon  allowed  to  hear  her. 
Tanny  had  never  heard  the  harp  at  all,  and  wished 
for  it  very  much. 

^^I  shall  be  most  happy  to  play  to  you  both,'^ 
said  Miss  Crawford,  —  at  least,  as  long  as  jou  can 
like  to  listen;  probably  much  longer,  for  I  dearly 
love  music  myself,  and  where  the  natural  taste  is 
equal,  the  player  must  always  be  best  off,  for  she 
is  gratified  in  more  ways  than  one.  Now,  Mr. 
Bertram,  if  you  write  to  your  brother,  I  entreat  you 
to  tell  him  that  my  harp  is  come;  he  heard  so 
much  of  my  misery  without  it.  And  you  may 
say,  if  you  please,  that  I  shall  prepare  my  most 
plaintive  airs  against  his  return  in  compassion  to 
his  feelings,  as  1  know  his  horse  will  lose.^' 

^'If  I  write,  I  will  say  whatever  you  wish  me; 
but  I  do  not  at  present  foresee  any  occasion  for 
writing.'^ 

^^No,  I  dare  say;  nor  if  he  were  to  be  gone  a 
twelvemonth,  would  you  ever  write  to  him  nor  he 
to  you,  if  it  could  be  helped.  The  occasion  would 
never  be  foreseen.  What  strange  creatures  brothers 
are !  You  would  not  write  to  each  other  but  upon 
the  most  urgent  necessity  in  the  world;  and  when 
obliged  to  take  up  the  pen  to  say  that  such  a  horse 
is  ill,  or  such  a  relation  dead,  it  is  done  in  the 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


79 


fewest  possible  words.  You  have  but  one  style 
among  you.  I  know  it  perfectly.  Henry,  who  is 
in  every  other  respect  exactly  what  a  brother 
should  be,  who  loves  me,  consults  me,  confides  in 
me,  and  will  talk  to  me  by  the  hour  together,  has 
never  yet  turned  the  page  in  a  letter;  and  very 
often  it  is  nothing  more  than  — 

Dear  Mary, — I  am  just  arrived.  Bath  seems  full, 
and  everything  as  usual. 

Yours  sincerely. 

That  is  the  true  manly  style,  — -  that  is  a  complete 
brother's  letter." 

^^When  they  are  at  a  distance  from  all  their 
family,"  said  Fanny,  coloring  for  William's  sake, 
^^they  can  write  long  letters." 

Miss  Price  has  a  brother  at  sea,"  said  Edmund, 
whose  excellence  as  a  correspondent  makes  her 
think  you  too  severe  upon  us." 

*^At  sea,  has  she?  —  In  the  king's  service,  of 
course." 

Fanny  w^ould  rather  have  had  Edmund  tell  the 
story;  but  his  determined  silence  obliged  her  to 
relate  her  brother's  situation:  her  voice  was  ani- 
mated in  speaking  of  his  profession,  and  the  foreign 
stations  he  had  been  on;  but  she  could  not  mention 
the  number  of  years  that  he  had  been  absent  with- 
out tears  in  her  eyes.  Miss  Crawford  civilly 
wished  him  an  early  promotion. 

Do  you  know  anything  of  my  cousin's  captain  ?  " 
said  Edmund,  —  Captain  Marshall?  You  have  a 
large  acquaintance  in  the  navy,  I  conclude?  '' 

Among  admirals,  large  enough;  but,"  with 


80 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


an  air  of  grandeur,  ^^we  know  very  little  of  the 
inferior  ranks.  Post-captains  may  be  very  good 
sort  of  men,  but  they  do  not  belong  to  us.  Of 
various  admirals  I  could  tell  you  a  great  deal,  —  of 
them  and  their  flags,  and  the  gradation  of  their 
pay,  and  their  bickerings  and  jealousies.  But  in 
general,  I  can  assure  you  that  they  are  all  passed 
over,  and  all  very  ill  used.  Certainly  my  home 
at  my  uncle's  brought  me  acquainted  with  a  circle 
of  admirals.  Of  Rears  and  Vices,  I  saw  enough. 
!N"ow,  do  not  be  suspecting  me  of  a  pun,  I  entreat." 

Edmund  again  felt  grave  and  only  replied,  ^^It 
is  a  noble  profession." 

Yes,  the  profession  is  well  enough  under  two 
circumstances,  —  if  it  make  the  fortune,  and  there 
be  discretion  in  spending  it;  but  in  short,  it  is  not 
a  favorite  profession  of  mine.  It  has  never  worn 
an  amiable  form  to  me." 

Edmund  reverted  to  the  harp,  and  was  again 
very  happy  in  the  prospect  of  hearing  her  play. 

The  subject  of  improving  grounds,  meanwhile, 
was  still  under  consideration  among  the  others; 
and  Mrs.  Grant  could  not  help  addressing  her 
brother,  though  it  was  calling  his  attention  from 
Miss  Julia  Bertram. 

^^My  dear  Henry,  have  you  nothing  to  say? 
You  have  been  an  improver  yourself;  and  from 
what  I  hear  of  Everingham,  it  may  vie  with  any 
place  in  England.  Its  natural  beauties  I  am  sure 
are  great.  Everingham  as  it  used  to  be  was  per- 
fect in  my  estimation  ;  such  a  happy  fall  of  ground, 
and  such  timber!  What  would  not  I  give  to  see 
it  again!  " 


MANSEIELD  PARK. 


81 


'^Nothing  could  be  so  gratifying  to  me  as  to 
hear  your  opinion  of  it/'  was  his  answer;  ^^but  I 
fear  there  would  be  some  disappointment,  —  you 
would  not  find  it  equal  to  your  present  ideas.  In 
extent  it  is  a  mere  nothing,  —  you  would  be  sur- 
prised at  its  insignificance;  and  as  for  improve- 
ment, there  was  very  little  for  me  to  do,  — too 
little,  —  I  should  like  to  have  been  busy  much 
longer.'^ 

^^You  are  fond  of  the  sort  of  thing?''  said 
Julia. 

^^Excessively;  but  what  with  the  natural  ad- 
vantages of  the  ground,  which  pointed  out,  even  to 
a  very  young  eye,  what  little  remained  to  be  done, 
and  my  own  consequent  resolutions,  I  had  not 
been  of  age  three  months  before  Everingham  was 
all  that  it  is  now.  My  plan  was  laid  at  West- 
minster, a  little  altered,  perhaps,  at  Cambridge, 
and  at  one-and-twenty  executed.  I  am  inclined  to 
envy  Mr.  Rushworth  for  having  so  much  happi- 
ness yet  before  him.  I  have  been  a  devourer  of 
my  own." 

' '  Those  who  see  quickly  will  resolve  quickly  and 
act  quickly,"  said  Julia.  You  can  never  want 
employment.  Instead  of  envying  Mr.  Rushworth, 
you  should  assist  him  with  your  opinion." 

Mrs.  Grant,  hearing  the  latter  part  of  this 
speech,  enforced  it  warmly,  persuaded  that  no 
judgment  could  be  equal  to  her  brother's;  and 
as  Miss  Bertram  caught  at  the  idea  likewise, 
and  gave  it  her  full  support,  declaring  that,  in 
her  opinion,  it  was  infinitely  better  to  consult 

VOL.  I.  —  6 


82 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


with  friends  and  disinterested  advisers  than  im« 
mediately  to  throw  the  business  into  the  hands 
of  a  professional  man,  Mr.  Rush  worth  was  very 
ready  to  request  the  favor  of  Mr.  Crawford's  assist- 
ance ;  and  Mr.  Crawford,  after  properly  depreciat- 
ing his  own  abilities,  was  quite  at  his  service  in 
any  way  that  could  be  useful.  Mr.  Rushworth  then 
began  to  propose  Mr.  Crawford's  doing  him  the 
honor  of  coming  over  to  Sotherton,  and  taking 
a  bed  there;  when  Mrs.  Norris,  as  if  reading  in 
her  two  nieces'  minds  their  little  approbation  of 
a  plan  which  was  to  take  Mr.  Crawford  away, 
interposed  with  an  amendment. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  of  Mr.  Crawford^s 
willingness;  but  why  should  not  more  of  us  go? 
Why  should  not  we  make  a  little  party?  Here 
are  many  that  would  be  interested  in  your  im- 
provements, my  dear  Mr.  Eushworth,  and  that 
would  like  to  hear  Mr.  Crawford's  opinion  on 
the  spot,  and  that  might  be  of  some  small  use  to 
you  with  their  opinions;  and  for  my  own  part 
I  have  been  long  wishing  to  wait  upon  your  good 
mother  again.  Nothing  but  having  no  horses  of 
my  own  could  have  made  me  so  remiss;  but  now 
I  could  go  and  sit  a  few  hours  with  Mrs.  Eush- 
worth while  the  rest  of  you  walked  about  and 
settled  things,  and  then  we  could  all  return  to 
a  late  dinner  here,  or  dine  at  Sotherton,  just  as 
might  be  most  agreeable  to  your  mother,  and 
have  a  pleasant  drive  home  by  moonlight.  I 
dare  say  Mr.  Crawford  would  take  my  two  nieces 
and  me  in  his  barouche,  and  Edmund  can  go 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


83 


on  horseback,  you  know,  sister,  and  Fanny  will 
stay  at  home  with  you.'' 

Lady  Bertram  made  no  objection;  and  every 
one  concerned  in  the  going  was  forward  in  ex- 
pressing their  ready  concurrence,  excepting  Ed- 
mund, who  heard  it  all  and  said  nothing. 


CHAPTEE  YTI. 


^^Well,  Fanny,  and  how  do  you  like  Miss 
Crawford  now?^^  said  Edmund  the  next  day,  af- 
ter thinking  some  time  on  the  subject  himself. 
^^How  did  you  like  her  yesterday? 

<^Very  well,  —  very  much.  I  like  to  hear  her 
talk.  She  entertains  me;  and  she  is  so  extremely 
pretty  that  I  have  great  pleasure  in  looking  at 
her.^^ 

^^It  is  her  countenance  that  is  so  attractive. 
She  has  a  wonderful  play  of  feature!  But  was 
there  nothing  in  her  conversation  that  struck 
you,  Eanny,  as  not  quite  right 

^^Oh,  yes,  she  ought  not  to  have  spoken  of  her 
uncle  as  she  did.  I  was  quite  astonished.  An 
uncle  with  whom  she  has  been  living  so  many 
years,  and  who,  whatever  his  faults  may  be,  is  so 
very  fond  of  her  brother,  treating  him,  they  say, 
quite  like  a  son.    I  could  not  have  believed  it!  ^' 

^^I  thought  you  would  be  struck.  It  was  very 
wrong, — very  indecorous. 

^^And  very  ungrateful,  I  think. 
Ungrateful  is  a  strong  word.  I  do  not  know 
that  her  uncle  has  any  claim  to  her  gratitude. 
His  wife  certainly  had;  and  it  is  the  warmth  of 
her  respect  for  her  aunt's  memory  which  misleads 
her  here.    She  is  awkwardly  circumstanced.  With 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


85 


such  warm  feelings  and  lively  spirits  it  must  be 
difficult  to  do  justice  to  her  affection  for  Mrs. 
Crawford,  without  throwing  a  shade  on  the  Ad- 
miral. I  do  not  pretend  to  know  which  was  most 
to  blame  in  their  disagreements,  though  the  Ad- 
miral's present  conduct  might  incline  one  to  the 
side  of  his  wife;  but  it  is  natural  and  amiable 
that  Miss  Crawford  should  acquit  her  aunt  en- 
tirely. I  do  not  censure  her  opinions;  but  there 
certainly  is  impropriety  in  making  them  public. 

^^Do  not  you  think,''  said  Eanny,  after  a  little 
consideration,  ^Hhat  this  impropriety  is  a  reflec- 
tion itself  upon  Mrs.  Crawford,  as  her  niece  has 
been  entirely  brought  up  by  her?  She  cannot 
have  given  her  right  notions  of  what  was  due  to 
the  Admiral." 

"  That  is  a  fair  remark.  Yes,  we  must  suppose 
the  faults  of  the  niece  to  have  been  those  of  the 
aunt;  and  it  makes  one  more  sensible  of  the  disad- 
vantages she  has  been  under.  But  I  think  her 
present  home  must  do  her  good.  Mrs.  Grant's  man- 
ners are  just  what  they  ought  to  be.  She  speaks 
of  her  brother  with  a  very  pleasing  affection." 

Yes,  except  as  to  his  writing  her  such  short 
letters.  She  made  me  almost  laugh;  but  I  cannot 
rate  so  very  highly  the  love  or  good-nature  of  a 
brother  who  will  not  give  himself  the  trouble  of 
writing  anything  worth  reading  to  his  sisters, 
when  they  are  separated.  I  am  sure  William 
would  never  have  used  me  so,  under  any  circum- 
stances. And  what  right  had  she  to  suppose  that 
you  would  not  write  long  letters  when  you  were 
absent?  " 


86 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


The  right  of  a  lively  mind,  Eanny,  seizing 
whatever  may  contribute  to  its  own  amusement  or 
that  of  others;  perfectly  allowable,  when  untinc- 
tured  by  ill  humor  or  roughness;  and  there  is  not 
a  shadow  of  either  in  the  countenance  or  manner  of 
Miss  Crawford,  —  nothing  sharp  or  loud  or  coarse. 
She  is  perfectly  feminine,  except  in  the  instances 
we  have  been  speaking  of.  There  she  cannot  be 
justified.    I  am  glad  you  saw  it  all  as  I  did.'' 

Having  formed  her  mind  and  gained  her  affec- 
tions, he  had  a  good  chance  of  her  thinking  like 
him;  though  at  this  period  and  on  this  subject 
there  began  now  to  be  some  danger  of  dissimi- 
larity, for  he  was  in  a  line  of  admiration  of  Miss 
Crawford  which  might  lead  him  where  Fanny 
could  not  follow.  Miss  Crawford's  attractions  did 
not  lessen.  The  harp  arrived,  and  rather  added  to 
her  beauty,  wit,  and  good-humor;  for  she  played 
with  the  greatest  obligingness,  with  an  expression 
and  taste  which  were  peculiarly  becoming,  and 
there  was  something  clever  to  He  said  at  the  close 
of  every  air.  Edmund  was  at  the  Parsonage  every 
day,  to  be  indulged  with  his  favorite  instrument: 
one  morning  secured  an  invitation  for  the  next; 
for  the  lady  could  not  be  unwilling  to  have  a  lis- 
tener, and  everything  was  soon  in  a  fair  train, 

A  young  woman,  pretty,  lively,  w^ith  a  harp  as 
elegant  as  herself;  and  both  placed  near  a  window 
cut  down  to  the  ground,  and  opening  on  a  little 
lawn,  surrounded  by  shrubs  in  the  rich  foliage  of 
summer,  was  enough  to  catch  any  man^s  heart. 
The  season,  the  scene,  the  air,  w^ere  all  favorable 
to  tenderness  and  sentiment.    Mrs.  Grant  and  her 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


87 


tambour  frame  were  not  without  their  use :  it  was 
all  in  harmony;  and  as  everything  will  turn  to  ac- 
count when  love  is  once  set  going,  even  the  sand- 
wich tray,  and  Dr.  Grant  doing  the  honors  of  it 
were  worth  looking  at.  Without  studying  the 
business,  however,  or  knowing  what  he  was  about, 
Edmund  was  beginning,  at  the  end  of  a  week  of 
such  intercourse,  to  be  a  good  deal  in  love;  and  to 
the  credit  of  the  lady  it  may  be  added,  that  with- 
out his  being  a  man  of  the  world  or  an  elder 
brother,  without  any  of  the  arts  of  flattery  or  the 
gayeties  of  small  talk,  he  began  to  be  agreeable  to 
her.  She  felt  it  to  be  so,  though  she  had  not  fore- 
seen and  could  hardly  understand  it;  for  he  was 
not  pleasant  by  any  common  rule,  he  talked  no 
nonsense,  he  paid  no  compliments,  his  opinions 
were  unbending,  his  attentions  tranquil  and  sim- 
ple. There  was  a  charm,  perhaps,  in  his  sincerity, 
his  steadiness,  his  integrity,  which  Miss  Crawford 
might  be  equal  to  feel,  though  not  equal  to  discuss 
with  herself.  She  did  not  think  very  much  about 
it,  however:  he  pleased  her  for  the  present;  she 
liked  to  have  him  near  her;  it  was  enough. 

Fanny  could  not  wonder  that  Edmund  was  at. 
the  Parsonage  every  morning,  —  she  would  gladly 
have  been  there  too,  might  she  have  gone  in  unin- 
vited and  unnoticed  to  hear  the  harp;  neither 
could  she  wonder  that  when  the  evening  stroll 
was  over,  and  the  two  families  parted  again,  he 
should  think  it  right  to  attend  Mrs.  Grant  and 
her  sister  to  their  home,  while  Mr.  Crawford  v/as 
devoted  to  the  ladies  of  the  Park :  but  she  thought 
it  a  very  bad  exchange ;  and  if  Edmund  were  not 


88 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


there  to  mix  the  wine  and  water  for  her,  would 
rather  go  without  it  than  not.  She  was  a  little 
surprised  that  he  could  spend  so  many  hours  with 
Miss  Crawford,  and  not  see  more  of  the  sort  of 
fault  which  he  had  already  observed,  and  of  which 
she  was  almost  always  reminded  by  a  something  of 
the  same  nature  whenever  she  was  in  her  company ; 
but  so  it  was.  Edmund  was  fond  of  speaking  to 
her  of  Miss  Crawford,  but  he  seemed  to  think  it 
enough  that  the  Admiral  had  since  been  spared; 
and  she  scrupled  to  point  out  her  own  remarks  to 
him,  lest  it  should  appear  like  ill-nature.  The 
first  actual  pain  which  Miss  Crawford  occasioned 
her  was  the  consequence  of  an  inclination  to  learn 
to  ride,  which  the  former  caught  soon  after  her 
being  settled  at  Mansfield,  from  the  example  of 
the  young  ladies  at  the  Park,  and  which,  when 
Edmund's  acquaintance  with  her  increased,  led  to 
his  encouraging  the  wish,  and  the  offer  of  his  own 
quiet  mare  for  the  purpose  of  her  first  attempts,  as 
the  best  fitted  for  a  beginner  that  either  stable 
could  furnish.  No  pain,  no  injury,  however,  was 
designed  by  him  to  his  cousin  in  this  offer;  she 
was  not  to  lose  a  day's  exercise  by  it.  The  mare 
was  only  to  be  taken  down  to  the  Parsonage  half 
an  hour  before  her  rides  were  to  begin ;  and  Fanny, 
on  its  being  first  proposed,  so  far  from  feeling 
slighted,  was  almost  overpowered  with  gratitude 
that  he  should  be  asking  her  leave  for  it. 

Miss  Crawford  made  her  first  essay  with  great 
credit  to  herself,  and  no  inconvenience  to  Fanny. 
Edmund,  who  had  taken  down  the  mare  and  pre- 
sided at  the  whole,  returned  with  it  in  excellent 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


89 


time,  before  either  Fanny  or  the  steady  old  coach- 
man, who  always  attended  her  when  she  rode  with- 
out her  cousins,  was  ready  to  set  forward.  The 
second  day's  trial  was  not  so  guiltless.  Miss 
Crawford's  enjoyment  of  riding  was  such  tliat  she 
did  not  know  how  to  leave  off.  Active  and  fear- 
less, and,  though  rather  small,  strongly  made,  slie 
seemed  formed  for  a  horsewoman;  and  to  the  pure 
genuine  pleasure  of  the  exercise,'  something  was 
probably  added  in  Edmund's  attendance  and  in- 
structions, and  something  more  in  the  conviction 
of  very  much  surpassing  her  sex  in  general  by  her 
early  progress,  to  make  her  unwilling  to  dismount. 
Fanny  was  ready  and  waiting,  and  Mrs.  Norris 
was  beginning  to  scold  her  for  not  being  gone,  and 
still  no  horse  was  announced,  no  Edmund  ap- 
peared. To  avoid  her  aunt,  and  look  for  him,  she 
went  out. 

The  houses,  though  scarcely  half  a  mile  apart, 
were  not  within  sight  of  each  other;  but  by  walk- 
ing fifty  yards  from  the  hall  door  she  could  look 
down  the  park,  and  command  a  view  of  the  Par- 
sonage and  all  its  demesnes,  gently  rising  beyond 
the  village  road;  and  in  Dr.  Grant's  meadow  she 
immediately  saw  the  group,  —  Edmund  and  Miss 
Crawford,  both  on  horseback,  riding  side  by  side, 
Dr.  and  Mrs.  Grant  and  Mr.  Cra,wford,  with  two 
or  three  grooms,  standing  about  and  looking  on. 
A  happy  party  it  appeared  to  her,  —  all  interested 
in  one  object,  —  cheerful  beyond  a  doubt,  for  the 
sound  of  merriment  ascended  even  to  her.  It  was 
a  sound  which  did  not  make  her  cheerful;  she 
wondered  that  Edmund  should  forget  her,  and  felt 


90 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


a  pang.  She  could  not  turn  her  eyes  from  the 
meadow,  she  could  not  help  watching  all  that 
passed.  At  first  Miss  Crawford  and  her  compan- 
ion made  the  circuit  of  the  field,  which  was  not 
small,  at  a  foot's  pace ;  then,  at  her  apparent  sug- 
gestion, they  rose  into  a  canter;  and  to  Fanny's 
timid  nature  it  was  most  astonishing  to  see  how 
well  she  sat.  After  a  few  mimites  they  stopped 
entirely.  Edmund  was  close  to  her,  he  was  speak- 
ing to  her,  he  was  evidently  directing  her  manage- 
ment of  the  bridle,  he  had  hold  of  her  hand;  she 
saw  it,  or  the  imagination  supplied  what  the  eye 
could  not  reach.  She  must  not  wonder  at  all  this ; 
what  could  be  more  natural  than  that  Edmund 
should  be  making  himself  useful,  and  proving  his 
good-nature  by  any  one  ?  She  could  not  but  think, 
indeed,  that  Mr.  Crawford  might  as  well  have 
saved  him  the  trouble;  that  it  would  have  been 
particularly  proper  and  becoming  in  a  brother  to 
have  done  it  himself;  but  Mr.  Crawford,  with  all 
his  boasted  good-nature  and  all  his  coachmanship, 
probably  knew  nothing  of  the  matter,  and  had  no 
active  kindness  in  comparison  of  Edmund.  She 
began  to  think  it  rather  hard  upon  the  mare  to 
have  such  double  duty;  if  she  were  forgotten,  the 
poor  mare  should  be  remembered. 

Her  feelings  for  one  and  the  other  were  soon  a 
little  tranquillized,  by  seeing  the  party  in  the 
meadow  disperse,  and  Miss  Crawford  still  on 
horseback,  but  attended  by  Edmund  on  foot,  pass 
through  a  gate  into  the  lane,  and  so  into  the  park, 
and  make  towards  the  spot  where  she  stood.  She 
began  then  to  be  afraid  of  appearing  rude  and  im- 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


91 


patient,  and  walked  to  meet  them  with  a  great 
anxiety  to  avoid  the  suspicion. 

^'My  dear  Miss  Price/'  said  Miss  Crawford,  as 
soon  as  she  was  at  all  within  hearing,  ' '  I  am  come 
to  make  my  own  apologies  for  keeping  you  waiting, 
—  but  I  have  nothing  in  the  world  to  say  for  my- 
self, —  I  knew  it  was  very  late,  and  that  I  was 
behaving  extremely  ill!  and  therefore,  if  you 
please,  you  must  forgive  me.  Selfishness  must 
always  be  forgiven,  you  know,  because  there  is  no 
hope  of  a  cure.'' 

Fann^^'s  answer  was  extremely  civil,  and  Ed- 
mund added  his  conviction  that  she  could  be  in  no 
hurry.  "  For  there  is  more  than  time  enough  for 
my  cousin  to  ride  twice  as  far  as  she  ever  goes," 
said  he,  ^^and  you  have  been  promoting  her  com- 
fort by  preventing  her  from  setting  off  half  an 
hour  sooner:  clouds  are  now  coming  up,  and  she 
will  not  suffer  from  the  heat  as  she  would  have 
done  then.  I  wish  you  may  not  be  fatigued  by  so 
much  exercise.  I  wish  you  had  saved  yourself 
this  walk  home." 

"1^0  part  of  it  fatigues  me  but  getting  off  this 
horse,  I  assure  you,"  said  she,  as  she  sprang  down 
with  his  help;  ^^I  am  very  strong.  Nothing  ever 
fatigues  me  but  doing  what  I  do  not  like.  Miss 
Price,  I  give  way  to  you  with  a  very  bad  grace; 
but  I  sincerely  hope  you  will  have  a  pleasant  ride, 
and  that  I  may  have  nothing  but  good  to  hear  of 
this  dear,  delightful,  beautiful  animal." 

The  old  coachman,  who  had  been  waiting  about 
with  his  own  horse,  now  joining  them,  Panny  was 
lifted  on  hers,  and  they  set  off  across  another  part 


92 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


of  the  park;  her  feelings  of  discomfort  not  light- 
ened by  seeing,  as  she  looked  back,  that  the  others 
were  walking  down  the  hill  together  to  the  village ; 
nor  did  her  attendant  do  her  much  good  b}^  his 
comments  on  Miss  Crawford's  great  cleverness  as  a 
horsewoman,  which  he  had  been  watching  with  an 
interest  almost  equal  to  her  own. 

It  is  a  pleasure  to  see  a  lady  with  such  a  good 
heart  for  riding!  "  said  he.  ^^I  never  see  one  sit 
a  horse  better.  She  did  not  seem  to  have  a  thought 
of  fear.  Very  different  from  you,  miss,  when  you 
first  began,  six  years  ago  come  next  Easter.  Lord 
bless  me !  how  you  did  tremble  when  Sir  Thomas 
first  had  you  put  on! 

In  the  drawing-room  Miss  Crawford  was  also 
celebrated.  Her  merit  in  being  gifted  by  nature 
with  strength  and  courage  was  fully  appreciated  by 
the  Miss  Bertrams;  her  delight  in  riding  was  like 
their  own;  her  early  excellence  in  it  was  like  their 
own,  and  they  had  great  pleasure  in  praising  it. 

'^I  was  sure  she  would  ride  well,''  said  Julia; 
^^she  has  the  make  for  it.  Her  figure  is  as  neat 
as  her  brother's." 

^^Yes,"  added  Maria;  ^^and  her  spirits  are  as 
good,  and  she  has  the  same  energy  of  character.  I 
cannot  but  think  that  good  horsemanship  has  a 
great  deal  to  do  with  the  mind." 

When  they  parted  at  night,  Edmund  asked 
Fanny  whether  she  meant  to  ride  the  next  day. 

' '  No,  I  do  not  know,  not  if  you  want  the  mare, ' ' 
was  her  answer.  ^^I  do  not  want  her  at  all  for 
myself,"  said  he;  "  but  whenever  you  are  next  in- 
clined to  stay  at  home,  I  think  Miss  Crawford 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


93 


would  be  glad  to  have  her  for  a  longer  time,  — for 
a  whole  morning,  in  short.  She  has  a  great  desire 
to  get  as  far  as  Mansfield  Common:  Mrs.  Grant 
has  been  telling  her  of  its  fine  views,  and  I  have 
no  doubt  of  her  being  perfectly  equal  to  it.  But 
any  morning  will  do  for  this.  She  would  be  ex- 
tremely sorry  to  interfere  with  you.  It  would  be 
very  wrong  if  she  did.  She  rides  only  for  pleasure ; 
you  for  health.'' 

^^I  shall  not  ride  to-morrow,  certainly,"  said 
Fanny ;  ^  ^  I  have  been  out  very  often  lately,  and 
would  rather  stay  at  home.  You  know  I  am  strong 
enough  now  to  walk  very  well.'' 

Edmund  looked  pleased,  which  must  be  Fanny's 
comfort,  and  the  ride  to  Mansfield  Common  took 
place  the  next  morning:  the  party  included  all 
the  young  people  but  herself,  and  was  much  en- 
joyed at  the  time,  and  doubly  enjoyed  again  in  the 
evening  discussion.  A  successful  scheme  of  this 
sort  generally  brings  on  another;  and  the  having 
been  to  Mansfield  Common  disposed  them  all  for 
going  somewhere  else  the  day  after.  There  were 
many  other  views  to  be  shown;  and  though  the 
weather  was  hot,  there  were  shady  lanes  wherever 
they  wanted  to  go.  A  young  party  is  always  pro- 
vided with  a  shady  lane.  Four  fine  mornings  suc- 
cessively were  spent  in  this  manner  in  showing  the 
Crawfords  the  country,  and  doing  the  honors  of  its 
finest  spots.  Everything  answered:  it  was  all 
gayety  and  good-humor,  the  heat  only  supplying 
inconvenience  enough  to  be  talked  of  with  pleasure, 
till  the  fourth  day,  when  the  happiness  of  one 
of  the  party  was  exceedingly  clouded.    Miss  Ber* 


94 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


tram  was  the  one.  Edmund  and  Julia  were  invited 
to  dine  at  the  Parsonage,  and  she  was  excluded. 
It  was  meant  and  done  by  Mrs.  Grant,  with  per- 
fect good-humor,  on  Mr.  Rush  worth's  account, 
who  was  partly  expected  at  the  Park  that  day ;  but 
it  was  felt  as  a  very  grievous  injury,  and  her  good 
manners  were  severely  taxed  to  conceal  her  vexa- 
tion and  anger  till  she  reached  home.  As  Mr. 
Eushworth  did  not  come,  the  injury  v/as  increased, 
and  she  had  not  even  the  relief  of  showing  her 
power  over  him;  she  could  only  be  sullen  to  her 
mother,  aunt,  and  cousin,  and  throw  as.  great  a 
gloom  as  possible  over  their  dinner  and  dessert. 

Between  ten  and  eleven  Edmund  and  Julia 
walked  into  the  drawing-room,  fresh  with  the  even- 
ing air,  glowing  and  cheerful,  the  very  reverse  of 
what  they  found  in  the  three  ladies  sitting  there, 
for  Maria  would  scarcely  raise  her  eyes  from  her 
book,  and  Lady  Bertram  was  half  asleep;  and  even 
Mrs.  Norris,  discomposed  by  her  niece's  ill-humor, 
and  having  asked  one  or  two  questions  about  the 
dinner,  which  were  not  immediately  attended  to, 
seemed  almost  determined  to  say  no  more.  For  a 
few  minutes  the  brother  and  sister  were  too  eager 
in  their  praise  of  the  night  and  their  remarks  on 
the  stars,  to  think  beyond  themselves;  but  when 
the  first  pause  came,  Edmund,  looking  around, 
said,  ^^But  where  is  Eanny?  Is  she  gone  to 
bed?'' 

^^No,  not  that  I  know  of,"  replied  Mrs.  Norris; 
^^she  was  here  a  moment  ago." 

Her  own  gentle  voice  speaking  from  the  other 
end  of  the  room,  which  was  a  very  long  one,  told 


MANSEIELD  PARK. 


95 


them  that  she  was  on  the  sofa.  Mrs.  N"orris  began 
scolding. 

^^That  is  a  very  foolish  trick,  Fanny^  to  be 
idling  away  all  the  evening  upon  a  sofa.  Why 
cannot  you  come  and  sit  here,  and  employ  yourself 
as  we  do?  If  you  have  no  work  of  your  own,  I  can 
supply  you  from  the  poor  basket.  There  is  all  the 
new  calico  that  was  bought  last  week,  not  touched 
yet.  I  am  sure  I  almost  broke  my  back  by  cutting 
it  out.  You  should  learn  to  think  of  other  people ; 
and  take  my  word  for  it,  it  is  a  shocking  trick 
for  a  young  person  to  be  always  lolling  upon  a 
sofa.'' 

Before  half  this  was  said,  Fanny  was  returned 
to  her  seat  at  the  table,  and  had  taken  up  her  work 
again;  and  Julia,  who  was  in  high  good-humxor, 
from  the  pleasures  of  the  day,  did  her  the  justice  of 
exclaiming,  ^^I  must  say,  ma'am,  that  Fanny  is  as 
little  upon  the  sofa  as  anybody  in  the  house." 

Fanny, "  said  Edmund,'  after  looking  at  her 
attentively,  "  I  am  sure  you  have  the  headache!  " 

She  could  not  deny  it,  but  said  it  was  not  very 
bad. 

^^I  can  hardly  believe  you,"  he  replied;  ^^I 
know  your  looks  too  well.  How  long  have  you 
had  it?  " 

Since  a  little  before  dinner.  It  is  nothing 
but  the  heat." 

"  Did  you  go  out  in  the  heat?  " 

Go  out!  to  be  sure  she  did,"  said  Mrs.  Norris; 
would  you  have  her  stay  within  such  a  fine  day 
as  this?    Were  not  we  all  out?  Even  your  mother 
was  out  to-day  for  above  an  hour," 


96 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


^^Yes,  indeed,  Edmund/' added  her  Ladyship, 
who  had  been  thoroughly  awakened  by  Mrs.  Nor- 
ris's  sharp  reprimand  to  Fanny;  ^^I  was  out  above 
an  hour.  I  sat  three  quarters  of  an  hour  in  the 
flower-garden,  while  Fanny  cut  the  roses ;  and  very 
pleasant  it  was,  I  assure  you,  but  very  hot.  It  was 
shady  enough  in  the  alcove,  but  I  declare  I  quite 
dreaded  the  coming  home  again.'' 

Fanny  has  been  cutting  roses,  has  she?  "  • 
Yes,  and  I  am  afraid  they  will  be  the  last  this 
year.    Poor  thing!    She  found  it  hot  enough;  but 
they  were  so  full  blown  that  one  could  not  wait." 

There  was  no  help  for  it,  certainly,"  rejoined 
Mrs.  Norris,  in  a  rather  softened  voice;  ^^but  I 
question  whether  her  headache  might  not  be  caught 
then,  sister.  There  is  nothing  so  likely  to  give  it 
as  standing  and  stooping  in  a  hot  sun;  but  I  dare 
say  it  will  be  well  to-morrow.  Suppose  you  let  her 
have  your  aromatic  vinegar;  I  always  forget  to 
have  mine  filled." 

"  She  has  got  it,"  said  Lady  Bertram:  ^^she  has 
had  it  ever  since  she  came  back  from  your  house 
the  second  time." 

What!  "  cried  Edmund;  ^^has  she  been  walk- 
ing as  well  as  cutting  roses,  — walking  across  the 
hot  park  to  your  house,  and  doing  it  twice,  ma'am? 
No  wonder  her  head  aches." 

Mrs.  Norris  was  talking  to  Julia,  and  did  not 
hear. 

^^I  was  afraid  it  would  be  too  much  for  her," 
said  Lady  Bertram;  ^^but  when  the  roses  were 
gathered,  your  aunt  wished  to  have  them,  and 
then  you  know  they  must  be  taken  home." 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


97 


^^But  were  there  roses  enough  to  oblige  her  to 
go  twice? 

^^1:^0;  but  they  were  to  be  put  into  the  spare 
room  to  dry;  and,  unluckily,  Fanny  forgot  to 
lock  the  door  of  the  room  and  bring  away  the  key, 
so  she  was  obliged  to  go  again.'' 

Edmund  got  up  and  walked  about  the  room, 
saying,  ^^And  could  nobody  be  employed  on  such 
an  errand  but  Fanny?  Upon  my  word,  ma'am, 
it  has  been  a  very  ill-managed  business." 

^^I  am  sure  I  do  not  know  how  it  was  to  have 
been  done  better,"  cried  Mrs.  Korris,  unable  to  be 
longer  deaf,  unless  I  had  gone  myself,  indeed; 
but  I  cannot  be  in  two  places  at  once;  and  I  was 
talking  to  Mr.  Green  at  that  very  time  about  your 
mother's  dairymaid,  by  her  desire,  and  had  prom- 
ised John  Groom  to  write  to  Mrs.  Jefferies  about 
his  son,  and  the  poor  fellow  was  waiting  for  me 
half  an  hour.  I  think  nobody  can  justly  accuse 
me  of  sparing  myself  upon  any  occasion,  but  really 
I  cannot  do  everything  at  once.  And  as  for 
Fanny's  just  stepping  down  to  my  house  for  me,  —  it 
is  not  much  above  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  —  I  cannot 
think  I  was  unreasonable  to  ask  it.  How  often 
do  I  pace  it  three  times  a  day,  early  and  late,  ay, 
and  in  all  weathers  too,  and  say  nothing  about 
it?" 

I  wish  Fanny  had  half  your  strength,  ma'am." 
^^If  Fanny  would  be  more  regular  in  her  exer- 
cise, she  would  not  be  knocked  up  so  soon.  She 
has  not  been  out  on  horseback  now  this  long  while, 
and  I  am  persuaded  that  when  she  does  not  ride 
she  ought  to  walk.    If  she  had  been  riding  before, 

VOL.  I.  —  7 


98 


MANSEIELD  PARK. 


I  should  not  have  asked  it  of  her.  But  I  thought 
it  would  rather  do  her  good  after  being  stooping 
among  the  roses;  for  there  is  nothing  so  refresh- 
ing as  a  walk  after  a  fatigue  of  that  kind;  and 
though  the  sun  was  strong,  it  was  not  so  very  hot. 
Between  ourselves,  Edmund/^  nodding  signifi- 
cantly at  his  mother,  ^^it  was  cutting  the  roses 
and  dawdling  about  in  the  flower-garden  that  did 
the  mischief.'^ 

^^I  am  afraid  it  was,  indeed,''  said  the  more 
candid  Lady  Bertram,  who  had  overheard  her;  ^^I 
am  very  much  afraid  she  caught  the  .headache 
there,  for  the  heat  was  enough  to  kill  anybody. 
It  was  as  much  as  I  could  bear  myself.  Sitting 
and  calling  to  Pug,  and  trying  to  keep  him  from 
the  flower-beds,  was  almost  too  much  for  me." 

Edmund  said  no  more  to  either  lady;  but  going 
quietly  to  another  table,  on  which  the  supper-tray 
yet  remained,  brought  a  glass  of  Madeira  to  Fanny, 
and  obliged  her  to  drink  the  greater  part.  She 
wished  to  be  able  to  decline  it;  but  the  tears, 
which  a  variety  of  feelings  created,  made  it  easier 
to  swallow  than  to  speak. 

Vexed  as  Edmund  was  with  his  mother  and 
aunt,  he  was  still  more  angry  v/ith  himself.  His 
own  forgetfulness  of  her  was  worse  than  anything 
which  they  had  done.  Nothing  of  this  would 
have  happened  had  she  been  properly  considered; 
but  she  had  been  left  four  days  together  without 
any  choice  of  companions  or  exercise,  and  without 
any  excuse  for  avoiding  whatever  her  unreasonable 
aunts  might  require.  He  was  ashamed  to  think 
that  for  four  days  together  she  had  not  had  the 


MANSEIELD  PARK. 


99 


power  of  riding,  and  very  seriously  resolved,  how- 
ever unwilling  lie  must  be  to  check  a  pleasure  of 
Miss  Crawford's,  that  it  should  never  happen 
again. 

Fanny  went  to  bed  with  her  heart  as  full  as  on 
the  first  evening  of  her  arrival  at  the  Park.  The 
state  of  her  spirits  had  probably  had  its  share  in 
her  indisposition;  for  she  had  been  feeling  ne- 
glected, and  been  struggling  against  discontent 
and  envy  for  some  days  past.  As  she  leaned  on 
the  sofa,  to  which  she  had  retreated  that  she  might 
not  be  seen,  the  pain  of  her  mind  had  been  much 
beyond  that  in  her  head;  and  the  sudden  change 
which  Edmund's  kindness  had  then  occasioned 
made  her  hardly  know  how  to  support  herself. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


Fanny's  rides  recommenced  the  very  next  day; 
and  as  it  was  a  pleasant  fresh-feeling  morning, 
less  hot  than  the  weather  had  lately  been,  Ed- 
mund trusted  that  her  losses  both  of  health  and 
pleasure  would  be  soon  made  good.  While  she 
was  gone,  Mr.  Eushworth  arrived,  escorting  his 
mother,  who  came  to  be  civil,  and  to  show  her 
civility  especially  in  urging  the  execution  of 
the  plan  for  visiting  Sotherton,  which  had  been 
started  a  fortnight  before,  and  which,  in  conse- 
quence of  her  subsequent  absence  from  home,  had 
since  lain  dormant.  Mrs.  Norris  and  her  nieces 
were  all  well  pleased  with  its  revival,  and  an 
early  day  was  named,  and  agreed  to,  provided 
Mr.  Crawford  should  be  disengaged:  the  young 
ladies  did  not  forget  that  stipulation,  and  though 
Mrs.  Norris  would  willingly  have  answered  for 
his  being  so,  they  would  neither  authorize  the 
liberty  nor  run  the  risk;  and  at  last,  on  a  hint 
from  Miss  Bertram,  Mr.  Eushworth  discovered 
that  the  properest  thing  to  be  done  was  for  him 
to  walk  down  to  the  Parsonage  directly,  and  call 
on  Mr.  Crawford,  and  inquire  whether  Wednesday 
would  suit  him  or  not. 

Before  his  return  Mrs.  Grant  and  Miss  Craw- 
ford came  in.    Having  been  out  some  time,  and 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


101 


taken  a  different  route  to  the  house,  they  had 
not  met  him.  Comfortable  hopes,  however,  were 
given  that  he  would  find  Mr.  Crawford  at  home. 
The  Sotherton  Kscheme  was  mentioned  of  course. 
It  was  hardly  possible,  indeed,  that  anything  else 
should  be  talked  of,  for  Mrs.  ISTorris  was  in  high 
spirits  about  it;  and  Mrs.  Rushworth,  a  well- 
meaning,  civil,  prosing,  pompous  woman,  who 
thought  nothing  of  consequence,  but  as  it  related 
to  her  own  and  her  son's  concerns,  had  not  yet 
given  over  pressing  Lady  Bertram  to  be  of  the 
party.  Lady  Bertram  constantly  declined  it;  but 
her  placid  manner  of  refusal  made  Mrs.  Rush- 
worth  still  think  she  wished  to  come,  till  Mrs. 
Norris's  more  numerous  words  and  louder  tone 
convinced  her  of  the  truth. 

^^The  fatigue  would  be  too  much  for  my  sister, 
a  great  deal  too  much,  I  assure  you,  my  dear  Mrs. 
Kushworth.  Ten  miles  there,  and  ten  back,  you 
know.  You  must  excuse  my  sister  on  this  occa- 
sion, and  accept  of  our  two  dear  girls  and  myself 
without  her.  Sotherton  is  the  only  place  that 
could  give  her  a  wish  to  go  so  far,  but  it  cannot 
be  indeed.  She  will  have  a  companion  in  Fanny 
Price,  you  know,  so  it  will  all  do  very  well ;  and 
as  for  Edmund,  as  he  is  not  here  to  speak  for 
himself,  I  will  answer  for  his  being  most  happy 
to  join  the  party.  He  can  go  on  horseback, 
you  know." 

Mrs.  Eushworth,  being  obliged  to  yield  to  Lad}^ 
Bertram's  staying  at  home,  could  only  be  sorry. 
^^The  loss  of  her  Ladyship's  company  would  be 
a  great  drawback,  and  she  should  have  been  ex- 


102 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


tremely  happy  to  have  seen  the  young  lady  too, 
Miss  Price,  who  had  never  been  at  Sotherton 
yet,  and  it  was  a  pity  she  should  not  see  the 
place.'' 

^^Tou  are  very  kind,  you  are  all  kindness,  my 
dear  madam, '' cried  Mrs.  Norris;  ^^but  as  to 
Fanny,  she  will  have  opportunities  in  plenty  of 
seeing  Sotherton.  She  has  time  enough  before 
her;  and  her  going  now  is  quite  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. Lady  Bertram  could  not  possibly  spare 
her." 

^^Oh,  no, — I  cannot  do  without  Fanny. 

Mrs.  E/Ushworth  proceeded  next,  under  the 
conviction  that  everybody  must  be  wanting  to 
see  Sotherton,  to  include  Miss  Crawford  in  the 
invitation;  and  though  Mrs.  Grant,  who  had  not 
been  at  the  trouble  of  visiting  Mrs.  Eushworth 
on  her  coming  into  the  neighborhood,  civilly 
declined  it  on  her  own  account,  she  was  glad  to 
secure  any  pleasure  for  her  sister;  and  Mary, 
properly  pressed  and  persuaded,  was  not  long  in 
accepting  her  share  of  the  civility.  Mr.  Eush- 
worth came  back  from  the  Parsonage  successful; 
and  Edmund  made  his  appearance  just  in  time 
to  learn  what  had  been  settled  for  Wednesday, 
to  attend  Mrs.  Eushworth  to  her  carriage,  and 
walk  half-way  down  the  park  with  the  two  other 
ladies. 

On  his  return  to  the  breakfast-room,  he  found 
Mrs.  ISTorris  trying  to  make  up  her  mind  as  to 
whether  Miss  Crawford's  being  of  the  party  were 
desirable  or  not,  or  whether  her  brother's  ba- 
rouche would  not  be  full  without  her.    The  Miss 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


103 


Bertrams  laughed  at  the  idea,  assuring  her  that 
the  barouche  would  hold  four  perfectly  well,  in- 
dependent of  the  box,  on  which  one  might  go 
with  him. 

"  But  why  is  it  necessary,''  said  Edmund,  ^^that 
Crawford's  carriage,  or  his  only,  should  be  em- 
ployed? Why  is  no  use  to  be  made  of  my  mother's 
chaise?  I  coiild  not,  when  the  scheme  was  first 
mentioned  the  other  day,  understand  why  a  visit 
from  the  family  were  not  to  be  made  in  the  car- 
riage of  the  family." 

^^What!  "  cried  Julia;  go  boxed  up  three  in 
a  postchaise  in  this  weather,  when  we  may  have 
seats  in  a  barouche!  No,  my  dear  Edmund,  that 
will  not  quite  do." 

Besides,"  said  Maria,  ^^I  know  that  Mr. 
Crawford  depends  upon  taking  us.  After  what 
passed  at  first,  he  would  claim  it  as  a  promise." 

^^And,  my  dear  Edmund,"  added  Mrs.  JSTorris, 
taking  out  two  carriages  when  one  will  do,  would 
be  trouble  for  nothing;  and  between  ourselves, 
coachman  is  not  very  fond  of  the  roads  between 
this  and  Sotherton:  he  always  complains  bitterly 
of  the  narrow  lanes  scratching  his  carriage,  and 
you  know  one  should  not  like  to  have  dear  Sir 
Thomas,  when  he  comes  home,  find  all  the  varnish 
scratched  off." 

That  would  not  be  a  very  handsome  reason  for 
using  Mr.  Crawford's,"  said  Maria;  ^^but  the 
truth  is,  that  Wilcox  is  a  stupid  old  fellow,  and 
does  not  know  how  to  drive.  I  will  answer  for  it 
that  we  shall  find  no  inconvenience  from  narrow 
roads  on  Wednesday." 


104 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


There  is  no  hardship,  I  suppose,  nothing 
unpleasant, ' '  said  Edmund,  ^^in  going  on  the 
barouche  box.'^ 

^ ^  Unpleasant !  "  cried  Maria;  ^^oh  dear,  I  be- 
lieve it  v/ould  be  generally  thought  the  favorite 
seat.  There  can  be  no  comparison  as  to  one's 
view  of  the  country.  Probably  Miss  Crawford 
will  choose  the  barouche  box  herself. 

There  can  be  no  objection  then  to  Fanny's 
going  with  you;  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  your 
having  room  for  her." 

Fanny!''  repeated  Mrs.  Norris;  ^^my  dear 
Edmund,  there  is  no  idea  of  her  going  with  us. 
She  stays  with  her  aunt.  I  told  Mrs.  Eush worth 
so.    She  is  not  expected." 

You  can  have  no  reason,  I  imagine,  madam," 
said  he,  addressing  his  mother,  ^^for  wishing 
Fanny  not  to  be  of  the  party,  but  as  it  relates  to 
yourself,  to  your  own  comfort.  If  you  could  do 
without  her,  you  would  not  wish  to  keep  her  at 
home?" 

'^To  be  sure  not,  but  I  cannot  do  without  her." 
You  can,  if  I  stay  at  home  with  you,  as  I  mean 
to  do." 

There  was  a  general  cry  out  at  this.  Yes," 
he  continued,  there  is  no  necessity  for  my  going, 
and  I  mean  to  stay  at  home.  Fanny  has  a  great 
desire  to  see  Sotherton.  I  know  she  wishes  it 
very  much.  She  has  not  often  a  gratification  of 
the  kind,  and  I  am  sure,  ma'am,  you  would  be 
glad  to  give  her  the  pleasure  now?  ^' 

^^Oh,  yes,  very  glad,  if  your  aunt  sees  no 
objection." 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


105 


Mrs.  Norris  was  very  ready  with  the  only  objec- 
tion which  could  remain,  —  their  having  positively 
assured  Mrs.  Rushworth  that  Panny  could  not  go, 
and  the  very  strange  appearance  there  would  con- 
sequently be  in  taking  her,  which  seemed  to  her  a 
difficulty  quite  impossible  to  be  got  over.  It  must 
have  the  strangest  appearance!  It  would  be  some- 
thing so  very  unceremonious,  so  bordering  on  dis- 
respect for  Mrs.  Rushworth,  whose  own  manners 
were  such  a  pattern  of  good-breeding  and  atten- 
tion, that  she  really  did  not  feel  equal  to  it.  Mrs. 
Norris  had  no  affection  for  Fanny,  and  no  wish  of 
procuring  her  pleasure  at  any  time;  but  her  opposi- 
tion to  Edmund  now  arose  more  from  partiality  for 
her  own  scheme,  because  it  was  her  own,  than  from 
anything  else.  She  felt  that  she  had  arranged 
everything  extremely  well,  and  that  any  alteration 
must  be  for  the  worse.  When  Edmund,  therefore, 
told  her  in  reply,  as  he  did  when  she  would  give 
him  the  hearing,  that  she  need  not  distress  herself 
on  Mrs.  Rushworth^s  account,  because  he  had 
taken  the  opportunity  as  he  walked  with  her 
through  the  hall  of  mentioning  Miss  Price  as 
one  who  would  probably  be  of  the  party,  and  had 
directly  received  a  very  sufficient  invitation  for  his 
cousin,  Mrs.  Norris  was  too  much  vexed  to  submit 
with  a  very  good  grace,  and  would  only  say,  Very 
well,  very  well,  just  as  you  choose,  settle  it  your 
own  way,  I  am  sure  I  do  not  care  about  it.'^ 

^^It  seems  very  odd, said  Maria,  ^^that  you 
should  be  staying  at  home  instead  of  Fanny." 

"  I  am  sure  she  ought  to  be  very  much  obliged  to 
you,"  added  Julia,  hastily  leaving  the  room  as  she 


106 


MANSFIELD  PAEK. 


spoke,  from  a  consciousness  that  she  ought  to  offer 
to  stay  at  home  herself. 

Fanny  will  feel  quite  as  grateful  as  the  occa- 
sion requires/'  was  Edmund's  only  reply;  and  the 
subject  dropped. 

Fanny's  gratitude,  when  she  heard  the  plan, 
was  in  fact  much  greater  than  her  pleasure.  She 
felt  Edmund's  kindness  with  all,  and  more  than 
all,  the  sensibility  which  he,  unsuspicious  of  her 
fond  attachment,  could  be  aware  of;  but  that  he 
should  forego  any  enjoyment  on  her  account  gave 
her  pain,  and  her  own  satisfaction  in  seeing  Sother- 
ton  would  be  nothing  without  him. 

The  next  meeting  of  the  two  Mansfield  families 
produced  another  alteration  in  the  plan,  and  one 
that  was  admitted  with  general  approbation.  Mrs. 
Grant  offered  herself  as  companion  for  the  day 
to  Lady  Bertram  in  lieu  of  her  son,  and  Dr.  Grant 
was  to  join  them  at  dinner.  Lady  Bertram  was 
very  well  pleased  to  have  it  so,  and  the  young 
ladies  were  in  spirits  again.  Even  Edmund  was 
very  thankful  for  an  arrangement  which  restored 
him  to  his  share  of  the  party;  and  Mrs.  Norris 
thought  it  an  excellent  plan,  and  had  it  at  her 
tongue's  end,  and  was  on  the  point  of  proposing  it, 
when  Mrs.  Grant  spoke. 

Wednesday  was  fine,  and  soon  after  breakfast 
the  barouche  arrived,  Mr.  Crawford  driving  his 
sisters;  and  as  everybody  w^as  ready,  there  was 
nothing  to  be  done  but  for  Mrs.  Grant  to  alight 
and  the  others  to  take  their  places.  The  place  of 
all  places,  the  envied  seat,  the  post  of  honor,  was 
unappropriated.    To  whose  happy  lot  was  it  to 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


107 


fall?  While  eacli  of  the  Miss  Bertrams  was 
meditating  how  best,  and  with  most  appearance  of 
obliging  the  others,  to  secure  it,  the  matter  was 
settled  by  Mrs.  Grant's  saying,  as  she  stepped 
from  the  carriage,  ^^As  there  are  five  of  you,  it 
will  be  better  that  one  should  sit  with  Henry;  and 
as  you  were  saying  lately  that  you  wished  you 
could  drive,  Julia,  I  think  this  will  be  a  good  op- 
portunity for  you  to  take  a  lesson." 

Happy  Julia!  Unhappy  Maria!  The  former 
was  on  the  barouche  box  in  a  moment,  the  latter 
took  her  seat  within,  in  gloom  and  mortification; 
and  the  carriage  drove  off  amid  the  good  wishes  of 
the  two  remaining  ladies,  and  the  barking  of  pug 
in  his  mistress's  arms. 

Their  road  was  through  a  pleasant  country;  and 
Fanny,  whose  rides  had  never  been  extensive,  was 
soon  beyond  her  knowledge,  and  was  very  happy 
in  observing  all  that  was  new,  and  admiring  all 
that  was  pretty.  She  was  not  often  invited  to  join 
in  the  conversation  of  the  others,  nor  did  she  desire 
it.  Her  own  thoughts  and  reflections  were  habit- 
ually her  best  companions;  and  in  observing  the 
appearance  of  the  country,  the  bearings  of  the 
roads,  the  difference  of  soil,  the  state  of  the  har- 
vest, the  cottages,  the  cattle,  the  children,  she 
found  entertainment  that  could  only  have  been 
heightened  by  having  Edmund  to  speak  to  of  what 
she  felt.  That  was  the  only  point  of  resemblance 
between  her  and  the  lady  who  sat  by  her;  in  every- 
thing but  a  value  for  Edmund,  Miss  Crawford  was 
very  unlike  her.  She  had  none  of  Eanny's  deli- 
cacy of  taste,  of  mind,  of  feeling;  she  saw  nature. 


108 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


inanimate  nature,  with  little  observation;  her  at* 
tention  was  all  for  men  and  women,  her  talents  for 
the  light  and  lively.  In  looking  back  after  Ed- 
mund, however,  when  there  was  any  stretch  of  road 
behind  them,  or  when  he  gained  on  them  in  as- 
cending a  considerable  hill,  they  were  united,  and 
a  ' '  There  he  is !  ' '  broke  at  the  same  moment  from 
them  both,  more  than  once. 

For  the  first  seven  miles  Miss  Bertram  had  very 
little  real  comfort:  her  prospect  always  ended  in 
Mr.  Crawford  and  her  sister  sitting  side  by  side 
full  of  conversation  and  merriment;  and  to  see 
only  his  expressive  profile  as  he  turned  with  a 
smile  to  Julia,  or  to  catch  the  laugh  of  the  other, 
was  a  perpetual  source  of  irritation,  w^hich  her  own 
sense  of  propriety  could  but  just  smooth  over. 
When  Julia  looked  back,  it  was  with  a  counte- 
nance of  delight;  and  whenever  she  spoke  to  them, 
it  was  in  the  highest  spirits:  ^^her  view  of  the 
country  was  charming,  she  wished  they  could  all 
see  it,"  etc.,  but  her  only  offer  of  exchange  was  ad- 
dressed to  Miss  Crawford,  as  they  gained  the  sum- 
mit of  a  long  hill,  and  was  not  more  inviting  than 
this:  *^Here  is  a  fine  burst  of  country.  I  wish 
you  had  my  seat,  but  I  dare  say  you  will  not  take 
it,  let  me  press  you  ever  so  much;  "  and  Miss 
Crawford  could  hardly  answer,  before  they  were 
moving  again  at  a  good  pace. 

When  they  came  within  the  influence  of  Sother- 
ton  associations,  it  was  better  for  Miss  Bertram, 
who  might  be  said  to  have  two  strings  to  her  bow. 
She  had  Eushworth-feelings  and  Crawford-feel- 
ings, and  in  the  vicinity  of  Sotherton  the  former 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


109 


Iiad  considerable  effect.  Mr.  Rushworth's  conse- 
quence was  hers.  She  could  not  tell  Miss  Craw- 
ford that  those  woods  belonged  to  Sotherton/' 
she  could  not  carelessly  observe  that  ^^she  believed 
it  was  now  all  Mr.  E-ush worth's  property  on  eac? 
side  of  the  road,"  without  elation  of  heart;  and  i 
w^as  a  pleasure  to  increase  with  their  approach  to 
the  capital  freehold  mansion,  and  ancient  manorial 
residence  of  the  family,  with  all  its  rights  of  court- 
leet  and  court-baron. 

*^Kow  we  shall  have  no  more  rough  road,  Miss 
Crawford;  our  difficulties  are  over.  The  rest  of 
the  way  is  such  as  it  ought  to  be.  Mr.  Rush- 
worth  has  made  it  since  he  succeeded  to  the  es- 
tate. Here  begins  the  village.  Those  cottages 
are  really  a  disgrace.  The  church  spire  is  reck- 
oned remarkably  handsome.  I  am  glad  the  church 
is  not  so  close  to  the  Great  House  as  often  happens 
in  old  places.  The  annoyance  of  the  bells  must 
be  terrible.  There  is  the  parsonage,  — a  tidy-look- 
ing house,  and  I  understand  the  clergyman  and 
his  wife  are  very  decent  people.  Those  are  alms- 
houses, built  by  some  of  the  famil}^  To  the  right 
is  the  steward's  house;  he  is  a  very  respectable 
man.  Now  we  are  coming  to  the  lodge  gates ;  but 
we  have  nearly  a  mile  through  the  park  still.  It 
is  not  ugly,  you  see,  at  this  end;  there  is  some 
fine  timber,  but  the  situation  of  the  house  is 
dreadful.  We  go  down  hill  to  it  for  half  a  mile ; 
and  it  is  a  pity,  for  it  would  not  be  an  ill-looking 
place  if  it  had  a  better  approach.'^ 

Miss  Crawford  was  not  slow  to  admire;  she 
pretty  well  guessed  Miss  Bertram's  feelings,  and 


110 


MANSEIELD  PARK. 


made  it  a  point  of  honor  to  promote  her  enjoyment 
to  the  utmost.  Mrs.  !N"orris  was  all  delight  and 
volubility;  and  even  Fanny  had  something  to  say 
in  admiration,  and  might  be  heard  with  com- 
placency. Her  eye  was  eagerly  taking  in  every- 
thing within  her  reach;  and  after  being  at  some 
pains  to  get  a  view  of  the  house,  and  observing 
that  ^^it  was  a  sort  of  building  which  she  could 
not  look  at  but  with  respect,'^  she  added,  ^^ISTow, 
where  is  the  avenue?  The  house  fronts  the  east,  I 
perceive.  The  avenue,  therefore,  must  be  at  the 
back  of  it.  Mr.  Eushworth  talked  of  the  w^est 
front. 

Yes,  it  is  exactly  behind  the  house;  begins  at 
a  little  distance,  and  ascends  for  half  a  mile  to  the 
extremity  of  the  grounds.  You  may  see  some- 
thing of  it  here,  —  something  of  the  more  distant 
trees.    It  is  oak  entirely.'^ 

Miss  Bertram  could  now  speak  with  decided  in- 
formation of  what  she  had  known  nothing  about 
when  Mr.  Kushworth  had  asked  her  opinion;  and 
her  spirits  were  in  as  happy  a  flutter  as  vanity  and 
pride  could  furnish,  when  they  drove  up  to  the 
spacious  stone  steps  before  the  principal  entrance. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Mr.  Eushworth  was  at  the  door  to  receive  his 
fair  lady;  and  the  whole  party  were  welcomed  by 
him  with  due  attention.  In  the  drawing-room 
they  were  met  with  equal  cordiality  by  the 
mother,  and  Miss  Bertram  had  all  the  distinction 
with  each  that  she  could  wish.  After  the  business 
of  arriving  was  over,  it  was  first  necessary  to  eat, 
and  the  doors  were  thrown  open  to  admit  them 
through  one  or  two  intermediate  rooms  into  the 
appointed  dining-parlor,  where  a  collation  was  pre- 
pared with  abundance  and  elegance.  Much  was 
said,  and  much  was  ate;  and  all  went  well.  The 
particular  object  of  the  day  was  then  considered. 
How  would  Mr.  Crawford  like,  in  what  manner 
would  he  choose,  to  take  a  survey  of  the  grounds? 
Mr.  Rushworth  mentioned  his  curricle.  Mr. 
Crawford  suggested  the  greater  desirableness  of 
some  carriage  which  might  convey  more  than  two. 
^^To  be  depriving  themselves  of  the  advantage  of 
other  eyes  and  other  judgments  might  be  an  evil 
even  beyond  the  loss  of  present  pleasure. 

Mrs.  Eushworth  proposed  that  the  chaise  should 
be  taken  also; ♦but  this  was  scarcely  received  as  an 
amendment:  the  young  ladies  neither  smiled  nor 
spoke.     Her  next   proposition  of   showing  the 


112 


MANSFIELD  PAUK. 


house  to  sncli  of  them  as  had  not  been  there  he- 
fore  was  more  acceptable;  for  Miss  Bertram  was 
pleased  to  have  its  size  displayed,  and  all  were 
glad  to  be  doing  something. 

The  whole  party  rose  accordingly,  and  under 
Mrs.  Kushworth's  guidance  were  shown  through 
a  number  of  rooms,  all  lofty,  and  many  large  and 
amply  furnished  in  the  taste  of  fifty  years  back, 
with  shining  floors,  solid  mahogany,  rich  damask, 
marble,  gilding  and  carving,  each  handsome  in  its 
way.  Of  pictures  there  were  abundance,  and  some 
few  good ;  but  the  larger  part  were  family  portraits 
no  longer  anything  to  anybody  but  Mrs".  Eush- 
worth,  who  had  been  at  great  pains  to  learn  all 
that  the  housekeeper  could  teach,  and  was  now 
almost  equally  well  qualified  to  show  the  house. 
On  the  present  occasion  she  addressed  herself 
chiefly  to  Miss  Crawford  and  Fanny,  but  there 
was  no  comparison  in  the  willingness  of  their 
attention;  for  Miss  Crawford,  who  had  seen  scores 
of  great  houses,  and  cared  for  none  of  them,  had 
only  the  appearance  of  civilly  listening,  while 
Fanny,  to  whom  everything  was  almost  as  inter- 
esting as  it  was  new,  attended  with  unaffected 
earnestness  to  all  that  Mrs.  Eushworth  could  re- 
late of  the  family  in  former  times,  its  rise  and 
grandeur,  regal  visits  and  loyal  efforts,  delighted 
to  connect  anything  with  history  already  known, 
or  warm  her  imagination  with  scenes  of  the  past. 

The  situation  of  the  house  excluded  the  possi- 
bility of  much  prospect  from  any  of  the  rooms; 
and  while  Fanny  and  some  of  the  others  were 
attending  Mrs.  Eushworth,  Henry  Crawford  was 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


113 


looking  grave  and  shaking  his  head  at  the  windows. 
Every  room  on  the  west  front  looked  across  a 
lawn  to  the  beginning  of  the  avenue  immediately 
beyond  tall  iron  palisades  and  gates. 

Having  visited  many  more  rooms  than  could  be 
supposed  to  be  of  any  other  use  than  to  contribute 
to  the  window  tax,  and  find  employment  for  house- 
maids, ^^Now/'  said  Mrs.  Eushworth,  ^^we  are 
coming  to  the  chapel,  which  probably  we  ought  to 
enter  from  above,  and  look  down  upon;  but  as  we 
are  quite  among  friends,  I  will  take  you  in  this 
waj^,  if  you  will  excuse  me." 

They  entered.  Fanny's  imagination  had  pre- 
pared  her  for  something  grander  than  a  mere 
spacious,  oblong  room,  fitted  up  for  the  purpose 
of  devotion,  —  with  nothing  more  striking  or  more 
solemn  than  the  profusion  of  mahogany,  and  the 
crimson  velvet  cushions  appearing  over  the  ledge 
of  the  family  gallery  above.  I  am  disappointed, " 
said  she,  in  a  low  voice  to  Edmund.  ^^This  is 
not  my  idea  of  a  chapel.  There  is  nothing  awful 
here,  nothing  melancholy,  nothing  grand.  Here 
are  no  aisles,  no  arches,  no  inscriptions,  no  banners. 
No  banners,  cousin,  to  be  ^  blown  by  the  night 
wind  of  heaven.'  ISTo  signs  that  a  ^Scottish 
monarch  sleeps  below.'  " 

^^You  forget,  Eanny,  how  lately  all  this  has 
been  built,  and  for  how  confined  a  purpose,  com- 
pared with  the  old  chapels  of  castles  and  monas- 
teries. It  was  only  for  the  private  use  of  the 
family.  They  have  been  buried,  T  suppose,  in 
the  parish  church.  There  you  must  look  for  the 
banners  and  the  achievements." 

VOL.  I.  —  8 


114 


MANSEIELD  PARK. 


^^It  was  foolish  of  me  not  to  think  of  all  that, 
but  I  am  disappointed.'^ 

Mrs.  Kushworth  began  her  relation.  ^^This 
chapel  was  fitted  up  as  you  see  it  in  James  the 
Second's  time.  Before  that  period,  as  I  under- 
stand, the  pews  were  only  wainscot;  and  there  is 
some  reason  to  think  that  the  linings  and  cushions 
of  the  pulpit  and  family  seat  were  only  purple 
cloth;  but  this  is  not  quite  certain.  It  is  a  hand- 
some chapel,  and  was  formerly  in  constant  use  both 
morning  and  evening.  Prayers  were  always  read 
in  it  by  the  domestic  chaplain,  within  the  memory 
of  many;  but  the  late  Mr.  Rushworth  left  it  o£f.'^ 

Every  generation  has  its  improvements^'^  said 
Miss  Crawford,  with  a  smile  to  Edmund. 

Mrs.  Kushworth  was  gone  to  repeat  her  lesson 
to  Mr.  Crawford;  and  Edmund,  Eanny,  and  Miss 
Crawford  remained  in  a  cluster  together. 

^^It  is  a  pity,"  cried  Eanny,  ^^that  the  custom 
should  have  been  discontinued.  It  was  a  valuable 
part  of  former  times.  There  is  something  in  a 
chapel  and  chaplain  so  much  in  character  with 
a  great  house,  with  one's  ideas  of  what  such  a 
household  should  be !  A  whole  family  assembling 
regularly  for  the  purpose  of  prayer  is  fine !  " 

^^Very  fine,  indeed!"  said  Miss  Crawford, 
laughing.  ^^It  must  do  the  heads  of  the  family  a 
great  deal  of  good  to  force  all  the  poor  housemaids 
and  footmen  to  leave  business  and  pleasure  and 
say  their  prayers  here  twice  a  day,  while  they  are 
inventing  excuses  themselves  for  staying  away.'' 

^^That  is  hardly  Fanny's  idea  of  a  family  as- 
sembling," said  Edmund.     ^^If  the  master  and 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


115 


mistress  do  not  attend  themselves,  there  must  be 
more  harm  than  good  in  the  custom.'^ 

At  any  rate,  it  is  safer  to  leave  people  to  their 
own  devices  on  such  subjects.  Everybody  likes 
to  go  their  own  way,  —  to  choose  their  own  time 
and  manner  of  devotion.  The  obligation  of  attend- 
ance, the  formality,  the  restraint,  the  length  of 
time,  —  altogether  it  is  a  formidable  thing,  and 
what  nobody  likes;  and  if  the  good  people  who 
used  to  kneel  and  gape  in  that  gallery  could  have 
foreseen  that  the  time  would  ever  come  when  men 
and  women  might  lie  another  ten  minutes  in  bed, 
when  they  woke  with  a  headache,  without  danger 
of  reprobation  because  chapel  was  missed,  they 
would  have  jumped  with  joy  and  envy.  Cannot 
you  imagine  with  what  unwilling  feelings  the 
former  belles  of  the  house  of  Eushworth  did  many 
a  time  repair  to  this  chapel?  The  young  Mrs. 
Eleanors  and  Mrs.  Bridgets,  —  starched  up  into 
seeming  piety,  but  with  heads  full  of  something 
very  different,  —  especially  if  the  poor  chaplain 
were  not  worth  looking  at,  —  and  in  those  days  I 
fancy  parsons  were  very  inferior  even  to  what  they 
are  now.'' 

Eor  a  few  moments  she  was  unanswered.  Eanny 
colored  and  looked  at  Edmund,  but  felt  too  angry 
for  speech;  and  he  needed  a  little  recollection 
before  he  could  say,  ' '  Your  lively  mind  can  hardly 
be  serious  even  on  serious  subjects.  You  have 
given  us  an  amusing  sketch,  and  human  nature 
cannot  say  it  was  not  so.  We  must  all  feel  at 
times  the  difficulty  of  fixing  our  thoughts  as  we 
could  wish ;  but  if  you  are  supposing  it  a  frequent 


116 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


thing,  that  is  to  say,  a  weakness  grown  into  a 
habit  from  neglect,  what  could  be  expected  from 
the  private  devotions  of  such  persons?  Do  you 
think  the  minds  which  are  suffered,  which  are 
indulged  in  wanderings  in  a  chapel,  would  be 
more  collected  in  a  closet? 

^^Yes,  very  likely.  They  would  have  two 
chances  at  least  in  their  favor.  There  would  be 
less  to  distract  the  attention  from  without,  and  it 
would  not  be  tried  so  long.'^ 

^^The  mind  which  does  not  struggle  against  it- 
self under  one  circumstance  would  find  objects  to 
distract  it  in  the  other,  I  believe;  and  the  in- 
fluence of  the  place  and  of  example  may  often 
rouse  better  feelings  than  are  begun  with.  The 
greater  length  of  the  service,  however,  I  admit  to 
be  sometimes  too  hard  a  stretch  upon  the  mind. 
One  wishes  it  were  not  so;  but  I  have  not  yet 
left  Oxford  long  enough  to  forget  what  chapel 
prayers  are." 

While  this  was  passing,  the  rest  of  the  party 
being  scattered  about  the  chapel,  Julia  called  Mr. 
Crawford's  attention  to  her  sister  by  saying,  ^^Do 
look  at  Mr.  Eushworth  and  Maria,  standing  side 
by  side,  exactly  as  if  the  ceremony  were  going  to 
be  performed.  Have  not  they  completely  the  air 
of  it?" 

Mr.  Crawford  smiled  his  acquiescence,  and  step- 
ping forward  to  Maria,  said,  in  a  voice  which  she 
only  could  hear,  ^^I  do  not  like  to  see  Miss  Ber- 
tram so  near  the  altar." 

Starting,  the  lady  instinctively  moved  a  step  or 
two  3  but  recovering  herself  in  a  moment,  affected 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


117 


to  laugh,  and  asked  him,  in  a  tone  not  much 
louder,  if  he  would  give  her  away. 

^^I  am  afraid  I  should  do  it  very  awkwardly,'^ 
was  his  reply,  with  a  look  of  meaning. 

Julia,  joining  them  at  the  moment,  carried  on 
the  joke. 

^^Upon  my  word,  it  is  really  a  pity  that  it 
should  not  take  place  directly,  if  we  had  but  a 
proper  license;  for  here  we  are  all  together,  and 
nothing  in  the  world  could  be  more  snug  and 
pleasant.^'  And  she  talked  and  laughed  about  it 
with  so  little  caution  as  to  catch  the  comprehen- 
sion of  Mr.  Kushworth  and  his  mother,  and  expose 
her  sister  to  the  whispered  gallantries  of  her  lover, 
while  Mrs.  Rushworth  spoke  with  proper  smiles 
and  dignity  of  its  being  a  most  happy  event  to 
her  whenever  it  took  place. 

^^If  Edmund  were  but  in  orders!  cried  Julia, 
and  running  to  where  he  stood  with  Miss  Crawford 
and  Fanny.  My  dear  Edmund,  if  you  were  but  in 
orders  now,  you  might  perform  the  ceremony 
directly.  How  unlucky  that  you  are  not  ordained ! 
Mr.  Rushworth  and  Maria  are  quite  ready." 

Miss  Crawford's  countenance,  as  Julia  spoke, 
might  have  amused  a  disinterested  observer.  She 
looked  almost  aghast  under  the  new  idea  she  was 
receiving.    Fanny  pitied  her. 

"^How  distressed  she  will  be  at  what  she  said 
just  now!     passed  across  her  mind. 

Ordained!  said  Miss  Crawford:  ^^what,  are 
you  to  be  a  clergyman? 

' '  Yes ;  I  shall  take  orders  soon  after  my  father's 
return, — probably  at  Christmas.'' 


118 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


Miss  Crawford,  rallying  her  spirits  and  recover- 
ing her  complexion,  replied  only,  If  I  had  known 
this  before,  I  would  have  spoken  of  the  cloth  with 
more  respect,"  and  turned  the  subject. 

The  chapel  was  soon  afterwards  left  to  the 
silence  and  stillness  which  reigned  in  it,  with  few 
interruptions,  throughout  the  year.  Miss  Ber- 
tram, displeased  with  her  sister,  led  the  way ;  and 
all  seemed  to  feel  that  they  had  been  there  long 
enough. 

The  lower  part  of  the  house  had  been  now  en- 
tirely shown;  and  Mrs.  Eushworth,  never. weary 
in  the  cause,  would  have  proceeded  towards  the 
principal  staircase,  and  taken  them  through  all 
the  rooms  above,  if  her  son  had  not  interposed 
with  a  doubt  of  there  being  time  enough.  ^^For 
if,''  said  he,  with  the  sort  of  self-evident  proposi- 
tion which  many  a  clearer  head  does  not  always 
avoid,  ''we  are  too  long  going  over  the  house,  we 
shall  not  have  time  for  what  is  to  be  done  out  of 
doors.  It  is  past  two,  and  we  are  to  dine  at 
five.'' 

Mrs.  Eushworth  submitted;  and  the  question 
for  surveying  the  grounds,  with  the  who  and  the 
how,  was  likely  to  be  more  fully  agitated,  and 
Mrs.  I^Torris  was  beginning  to  arrange  by  what 
junction  of  carriages  and  horses  most  could  be 
done,  when  the  young  people,  meeting  with  an 
outward  door,  temptingly  open  on  a  flight  of  steps 
w^hich  led  immediately  to  turf  and  shrubs,  and  all 
the  sweets  of  pleasure-grounds,  as  by  one  impulse, 
one  wish  for  air  and  liberty,  all  walked  out. 

Suppose  we  turn  down  here  for  the  present,'^ 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


119 


said  Mrs.  Eushworth,  civilly  taking  the  hint  and 
following  tliem.  ^^Here  are  the  greatest  number 
of  our  plants,  and  here  are  the  curious  pheasants.^' 

Query,"  said  Mr.  Crawford,  looking  round 
him,  whether  we  may  not  find  something  to 
employ  us  here,  before  we  go  farther?  I  see 
walls  of  great  promise.  Mr.  E-ushworth,  shall  we 
summon  a  council  on  this  lawn?'^ 

James,"  said  Mrs.  Rushworth  to  her  son,  ^^I 
believe  the  wilderness  will  be  new  to  all  the  party. 
The  Miss  Bertrams  have  never  seen  the  wilderness 

yet.'' 

'No  objection  was  made,  but  for  some  time  there 
seemed  no  inclination  to  move  in  any  plan  or  to 
any  distai^xe.  All  were  attracted  at  first  by  the 
plants  or  the  pheasants,  and  all  dispersed  about 
in  happy  independence.  Mr.  Crawford  was  the 
first  to  move  forward,  to  examine  the  capabilities 
of  that  end  of  the  house.  The  lawn,  bounded  on 
each  side  by  a  high  wall,  contained  beyond  the 
first  planted  area  a  bowling-green,  and  beyond  the 
bowling-green  a  long  terrace  walk,  backed  by 
iron  palisades,  and  commanding  a  view  over  them 
into  the  tops  of  the  trees  of  the  wilderness  imme- 
diately adjoining.  It  was  a  good  spot  for  fault- 
finding. Mr.  Crawford  was  soon  followed  by 
Miss  Bertram  and  Mr.  Eushworth;  and  when 
after  a  little  time  the  others  began  to  form  into 
parties,  these  three  were  found  in  busy  consulta- 
tion on  the  terrace  by  Edmund,  Miss  Crawford, 
and  Fanny,  who  seemed  as  naturally  to  unite,  and 
who,  after  a  short  participation  of  their  regrets 
and  difficulties,  left  them  and  walked  on.  The 


120 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


remaining  three  —  Mrs.  Kushworth,  Mrs.  Norris, 
and  Julia  —  were  still  far  behind;  for  Julia,  whose 
happy  star  no  longer  prevailed,  was  obliged  to 
keep  by  the  side  of  Mrs.  E-ushworth,  and  restrain 
her  impatient  feet  to  that  lady's  slow  pace,  while 
her  aunt,  having  fallen  in  with  the  housekeeper, 
who  was  come  out  to  feed  the  pheasants,  was  lin- 
gering behind  in  gossip  with  her.  Poor  Julia, 
the  only  one  out  of  the  nine  not  tolerably  satisfied 
with  their  lot,  was  now  in  a  state  of  complete 
penance,  and  as  different  from  the  Julia  of  the 
barouche  box  as  could  well  be  imagined.  The 
politeness  which  she  had  been  brought  up  to  prac- 
tise as  a  duty  made  it  impossible  for  her  to  escape; 
while  the  want  of  that  higher  species  of  self- 
command,  that  just  consideration  of  others,  that 
knowledge  of  her  own  heart,  that  principle  of 
right  which  had  not  formed  any  essential  part  of 
her  education,  made  her  miserable  under  it. 

^^This  is  insufferably  hot,''  said  Miss  Crawford 
when  they  had  taken  one  turn  on  the  terrace,  and 
were  drawing  a  second  time  to  the  door  in  the  mid- 
dle which  opened  to  the  wilderness.  "  Shall  any 
of  us  object  to  being  comfortable?  Here  is  a  nice 
little  wood,  if  one  can  but  get  into  it.  What  hap- 
piness if  the  door  should  not  be  locked!  — but  of 
course  it  is ;  for  in  these  great  places  the  gardeners 
are  the  only  people  who  can  go  where  they  like." 

The  door,  however,  proved  not  to  be  locked,  and 
they  were  all  agreed  in  turning  joyfully  through 
it,  and  leaving  the  unmitigated  glare  of  day  be- 
hind. A  considerable  flight  of  steps  landed  them 
in  the  wilderness,  which  was  a  planted  wood  of 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


121 


about  two  acres,  and  though  chiefly  of  larch  and 
laurel,  and  beech  cut  down,  and  though  laid  out 
with  too  much  regularity,  was  darkness  and  shade, 
and  natural  beauty,  compared  with  the  bowling- 
green  and  the  terrace.  They  all  felt  the  refresh- 
ment of  it,  and  for  some  time  could  only  walk  and 
admire.  At  length,  after  a  short  pause.  Miss 
Crawford  began  with,  So  you  are  to  be  a  clergy- 
man, Mr.  Bertram.  This  is  rather  a  surprise  to 
me.'' 

Why  should  it  surprise  you?  You  must  sup- 
pose me  designed  for  some  profession,  and  might 
perceive  that  I  am  neither  a  lawyer  nor  a  soldier 
nor  a  sailor.'' 

Very  true;  but,  in  short,  it  had  not  occurred 
to  me.  And  you  know  there  is  generally  an  uncle 
or  a  grandfather  to  leave  a  fortune  to  the  second 
son." 

A  very  praiseworthy  practice,"  said  Edmund, 
^^but  not  quite  universal.  I  am  one  of  the  excep- 
tions, and  being  one,  must  do  something  for 
myself." 

^^But  why  are  you  to  be  a  clergyman?  I 
thought  that  was  always  the  lot  of  the  youngest, 
where  there  were  many  to  choose  before  him." 

Do  you  think  the  church  itself  never  chosen, 
then?  " 

^ ' '  Kever '  is  a  black  word.  But  yes,  in  the  ^  never ' 
of  conversation  which  means  '  not  very  often, '  I  do 
think  it.  For  what  is  to  be  done  in  the  church? 
Men  love  to  distinguish  themselves,  and  in  either 
of  the  other  lines  distinction  may  be  gained,  but 
not  in  the  church.    A  clergyman  is  nothing." 


122 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


^^The  ^nothing'  of  conversation  has  ifcs  grada- 
tions, I  hope,  as  well  as  the  '  never.'  A  clergyman 
cannot  be  high  in  state  or  fashion.  He  must  not 
head  mobs,  or  set  the  ton  in  dress.  But  I  cannot 
call  that  situation  nothing,  which  has  the  charge 
of  all  that  is  of  the  first  importance  to  mankind, 
individually  or  collectively  considered,  temporally 
and  eternally,  —  which  has  the  guardianship  of 
religion  and  morals,  and  consequently  of  the  man- 
ners which  result  from  their  influence.  No  one 
here  can  call  the  office  nothing.  If  the  man  who 
holds  it  is  so,  it  is  by  the  neglect  of  his  duty,  by 
foregoing  its  just  importance,  and  stepping  out  of 
his  place  to  appear  what  he  ought  not  to  appear.'' 

"  You  assign  greater  consequence  to  the  clergy- 
man than  one  has  been  used  to  hear  given,  or  than 
I  can  quite  comprehend.  One  does  not  see  much 
of  this  influence  and  importance  in  society,  and 
how  can  it  be  acquired  where  they  are  so  seldom 
seen  themselves?  How  can  two  sermons  a  week, 
even  supposing  them  worth  hearing,  supposing  the 
preacher  to  have  tlie  sense  to  prefer  Blair's  to  his 
own,  do  all  that  you  speak  of,  —  govern  the  conduct 
and  fashion  the  manners  of  a  large  congregation 
for  the  rest  of  the  week?  One  scarcely  sees  a 
clergyman  out  of  his  pulpit." 

^^You  are  speaking  of  London,  I  am  speaking 
of  the  nation  at  large." 

^^The  metropolis,  I  imagine,  is  a  pretty  fair 
sample  of  the  rest." 

^^Not,  I  should  hope,  of  the  proportion  of  virtue 
to  vice  throughout  the  kingdom.  We  do  not  look 
in  great  cities  for  our  best  morality.    It  is  not 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


123 


there  that  respectable  people  of  any  denomination 
can  do  most  good;  and  it  certainly  is  not  there 
that  the  influence  of  the  clergy  can  be  most  felt. 
A  fine  preacher  is  followed  and  admired;  but  it  is 
not  in  fine  preaching  only  that  a  good  clergyman 
will  be  useful  in  his  parish  and  his  neighborhood, 
where  the  parish  and  neigliborhood  are  of  a  size 
capable  of  knowing  his  private  character,  and  ob- 
serving his  general  conduct,  which  in  London  can 
rarely  be  the  case.  The  clergy  are  lost  there  in 
the  crowds  of  their  parishioners.  They  are  known 
to  the  largest  part  only  as  preachers.  And  with 
regard  to  their  influencing  public  manners.  Miss 
Crawford  must  not  misunderstand  me,  or  suppose 
I  mean  to  call  them  the  arbiters  of  good  breeding, 
the  regulators  of  refinement  and  courtesy,  the 
masters  of  the  ceremonies  of  life.  The  manners 
I  speak  of  might  rather  be  called  conduct,  perhaps, 
the  result  of  good  principles ;  the  effect,  in  short, 
of  those  doctrines  which  it  is  their  duty  to  teach 
and  recommend;  and  it  will,  I  believe,  be  every- 
where found  that  as  the  clergy  are,  or  are  not 
what  they  ought  to  be,  so  are  the  rest  of  the 
nation.'^ 

' '  Certainly, ' '  said  Fanny,  with  gentle  earnest- 
ness. 

There, cried  Miss  Crawford,  ^^you  have 
quite  convinced  Miss  Price  already.'' 

I  wish  I  could  convince  Miss  Crawford  too.'' 
^^I  do  not  think  you  ever  will,"  said  she,  with 
an  arch  smile;     1  am  just  as  much  surprised  now 
as  I  was  at  first  that  you  should  intend  to  take 
orders.    You  really  are  fit  for  something  better^ 


124 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


Come,  do  change  your  mind.  It  is  not  too  Lite. 
Go  into  the  law." 

"  Go  into  the  law!  with  as  much  ease  as  I  was 
told  to  go  into  this  wilderness." 

"^ow  you  are  going  to  say  something  about 
law  being  the  worse  wilderness  of  the  two,  but  I 
forestall  you;  remember  I  have  forestalled  you." 

"  You  need  not  hurry  when  the  object  is  only  to 
prevent  my  sajdng  a  bon  mot,  for  there  is  not  the 
least  wit  in  my  nature.  I  am  a  very  matter-of- 
fact,  plain-spoken  being,  and  may  blunder  on  the 
borders  of  a  repartee  for  half  an  hour,  together 
without  striking  it  out." 

A  general  silence  succeeded.  Each  was  thought- 
ful. Fanny  made  the  first  interruption  by  saying, 
' '  I  wonder  that  I  should  be  tired  with  only  walk- 
ing in  this  sweet  wood;  but  the  next  time  we  come 
to  a  seat,  if  it  is  not  disagreeable  to  you,  I  should 
be  glad  to  sit  down  for  a  little  while." 

dear  Fanny,"  cried  Edmund,  immediately 
drawing  her  arm  within  his,  how  thoughtless  I 
have  been!  I  hope  you  are  not  very  tired.  Per- 
haps," turning  to  Miss  Crawford,  my  other 
companion  may  do  me  the  honor  of  taking  an 
arm." 

Thank  you,  but  I  am  not  at  all  tired."  She 
took  it,  however,  as  she  spoke;  and  the  gratifica- 
tion of  having  her  do  so,  of  feeling  such  a  connec- 
tion for  the  first  time,  made  him  a  little  forgetful 
of  Fanny.     ^^You  scarcely  touch  me,"  said  he. 

You  do  not  make  me  of  any  use.  What  a  differ- 
ence in  the  weight  of  a  woman's  arm  from  that  of 
a  man!    At  Oxford  I  have  been  a  good  deal  used 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


125 


to  have  a  man  lean  on  me  for  the  length  of  a  street, 
and  you  are  only  a  fly  in  the  comparison.'^ 

^  ^  I  am  really  not  tired,  which  I  almost  wonder 
at;  for  we  must  have  walked  at  least  a  mile  in 
this  wood.    Do  not  you  think  we  have?  '' 

^^ISTot  half  a  mile/'  was  his  sturdy  answer;  for 
he  was  not  yet  so  much  in  love  as  to  measure  dis- 
tance or  reckon  time  with  feminine  lawlessness. 

^'  Oh,  you  do  not  consider  how  much  we  have 
wound  about.  We  have  taken  such  a  very  ser- 
pentine course ;  and  the  wood  itself  must  be  half  a 
mile  long  in  a  straight  line,  for  we  have  never 
seen  the  end  of  it  yet,  since  we  left  the  first  great 
path." 

^^But  if  you  remember,  before  we  left  that  first 
great  path,  we  saw  directly  to  the  end  of  it.  We 
looked  down  the  whole  vista,  and  saw  it  closed  by 
iron  gates;  and  it  could  not  have  been  more  than  a 
furlong  in  length." 

Oh,  I  know  nothing  of  your  furlongs,  but  I 
am  sure  it  is  a  very  long  wood,  and  that  we  have 
been  winding  in  and  out  ever  since  we  came  into 
it;  and  therefore  when  I  say  that  we  have  walked 
a  mile  in  it,  I  must  speak  within  compass." 

^*We  have  been  exactly  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
here,"  said  Edmund,  taking  out  his  watch.  ^'  Do 
you  think  we  are  walking  four  miles  an  hour?  " 

^^Oh,  do  not  attack  me  with  your  watch.  A 
watch  is  always  too  fast  or  too  slow.  I  cannot  be 
dictated  to  by  a  watch." 

A  few  steps  farther  brought  them  out  at  the 
bottom  of  the  very  walk  they  had  been  talking  of; 
and  standing  back,  well  shaded  and  sheltered,  and 


126 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


looking  over  a  ha-ha  into  the  park,  was  a  comfort- 
able-sized bench,  on  which  they  all  sat  down. 

^^I  am  afraid  you  are  very  tired,  Fanny, said 
Edmund,  observing  her;  why  would  not  you 
speak  sooner?  This  will  be  a  bad  day's  amuse- 
ment for  you,  if  you  are  to  be  knocked  up.  Every 
sort  of  exercise  fatigues  her  so  soon.  Miss  Craw- 
ford, except  riding. 

^^How  abominable  in  you,  then,  to  let  me  en- 
gross her  horse  as  I  did  all  last  w^eek!  I  am 
ashamed  of  you  and  of  myself,  but  it  shall  never 
happen  again. 

^^Your  attentiveness  and  consideration  make 
me  more  sensible  of  my  own  neglect.  Fanny's 
interest  seems  in  safer  hands  with  you  than 
with  me.'' 

^^That  she  should  be  tired  now,  however,  gives 
me  no  surprise;  for  there  is  nothing  in  the  course 
of  one's  duties  so  fatiguing  as  what  we  have  been 
doing  this  morning, — seeing  a  great  house,  daw- 
dling from  one  room  to  another,  straining  one's 
eyes  and  one's  attention,  hearing  what  one  does 
not  understand,  admiring  what  one  does  not  care 
for.  It  is  generally  allowed  to  be  the  greatest 
bore  in  the  world;  and  Miss  Price  has  found  it 
so,  though  she  did  not  know  it." 

I  shall  soon  be  rested,"  said  Eanny;  to  sit 
in  the  shade  on  a  fine  day,  and  look  upon  verdure, 
is  the  most  perfect  refreshment." 

After  sitting  a  little  while.  Miss  Crawford  was 
up  again.  ^^I  must  move,"  said  she;  ^^resting 
fatigues  me.  I  have  looked  across  the  ha-ha  till  I 
am  weary.    I  must  go  and  look  through  that  iron 


MANSFIELD  PAEK. 


127 


gate  at  the  same  view,  without  being  able  to  see  it 
so  well.'' 

Edmund  left  the  seat  likewise.  ^^Kow,  Miss 
Crawford,  if  you  will  look  up  the  walk,  you  will 
convince  yourself  that  it  cannot  be  half  a  mile 
long,  or  half  half  a  mile.'' 

It  is  an  immense  distance,"  said  she;  ^^Isee 
that  with  a  glance." 

He  still  reasoned  with  her,  but  in  vain.  She 
would  not  calculate,  she  would  not  compare.  She 
would  only  smile  and  assert.  The  greatest  degree 
of  rational  consistency  could  not  have  been  more 
engaging,  and  they  talked  with  mutual  satisfac- 
tion. At  last  it  was  agreed  that  they  should  en- 
deavor to  determine  the  dimensions  of  the  wood  by 
walking  a  little  more  about  it.  They  would  go  to 
one  end  of  it,  in  the  line  they  were  then  in  (for 
there  was  a  straight  green  walk  along  the  bottom 
by  the  side  of  the  ha-ha),  and  perhaps  turn  a  little 
way  in  some  other  direction,  if  it  seemed  likely  to 
assist  them,  and  be  back  in  a  few  minutes.  Fanny 
said  she  was  rested,  and  would  have  moved  too; 
but  this  was  not  suffered.  Edmund  urged  her  re- 
maining where  she  was  with  an  earnestness  which 
she  could  not  resist,  and  she  was  left  on  the  bench 
to  think  with  pleasure  of  her  cousin's  care,  but 
with  great  regret  that  she  was  not  stronger.  She 
watched  them  till  they  had  turned  the  corner,  and 
listened  till  all  sound  of  them  had  ceased. 


CHAPTEE  X. 


A  QUARTER  of  an  hour,  twenty  minutes,  passed 
away;  and  Panny  was  still  thinking  of  Edmund, 
Miss  Crawford,  and  herself,  without  interruption 
from  any  one.  She  began  to  be  surprised  at  being 
left  so  long,  and  to  listen  with  an  anxious  desire 
of  hearing  their  steps  and  their  voices  again.  She 
listened,  and  at  length  she  heard;  she  heard  voices 
and  feet  approaching;  but  she  had  just  satisfied 
herself  that  it  was  not  those  she  wanted,  when 
Miss  Bertram,  Mr.  Eush worth,  and  Mr.  Crawford 
issued  from  the  same  path  which  she  had  trod 
herself,  and  were  before  her. 

^^Miss  Price  all  alone!  and  ^^My  dear  Panny, 
how  comes  this?  were  the  first  salutations.  She 
told  her  story.  ^^Poor,  dear  Panny,  cried  her 
cousin,  ^Hiow  ill  you  have  been  used  by  them! 
You  had  better  have  stayed  with  us." 

Then  seating  herself  with  a  gentleman  on  each 
side,  she  resumed  the  conversation  which  had  en- 
gaged them  before,  and  discussed  the  possibility  of 
improvements  with  much  animation.  Nothing 
was  fixed  on;  but  Henry  Crawford  was  full  of 
ideas  and  projects,  and,  generally  speaking,  what- 
ever he  proposed  was  immediately  approved,  first 
by  her,  and  then  by  Mr.  Eushworth,  whose  prin- 
cipal business  seemed  to  be  to  hear  the  others,  and 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


129 


who  scarcely  risked  an  original  thought  of  his  own 
beyond  a  wish  that  they  had  seen  his  friend 
Smith's  place. 

After  some  minutes  spent  in  this  way,  Miss  Ber- 
tram, observing  the  iron  gate,  expressed  a  wish  of 
passing  through  it  into  the  park,  that  their  views 
and  their  plans  might  be  more  comprehensive.  It 
was  the  very  thing  of  all  others  to  be  wished,  it 
was  the  best,  it  was  the  only  way  of  proceeding 
with  any  advantage,  in  Henry  Crawford's  opinion; 
and  he  directly  saw  a  knoll  not  half  a  mile  off, 
which  would  give  them  exactly  the  requisite  com- 
mand of  the  house.  Go  therefore  they  must  to 
that  knoll  and  through  that  gate ;  but  the  gate  was 
locked.  Mr.  Eushworth  wished  he  had  brought 
the  key;  he  had  been  very  near  thinking  whether 
he  should  not  bring  the  key;  he  was  determined 
he  would  never  come  without  the  key  again;  but 
still  this  did  not  remove  the  present  evil.  They 
could  not  get  through;  and  as  Miss  Bertram's  in- 
clination for  so  doing  did  by  no  means  lessen, 
it  ended  in  Mr.  Eushworth's  declaring  outright 
that  he  would  go  and  fetch  the  key.  He  set  off 
accordingly. 

^^It  is  undoubtedly  the  best  thing  we  can  do 
now,  as  we  are  so  far  from  the  house  already,'' 
said  Mr.  Crawford,  when  he  was  gone. 

^^Yes,  there  is  nothing  else  to  be  done.  But 
now,  sincerely,  do  not  you  find  the  place  altogether 
worse  than  you  expected?  " 

^^No,  indeed,  far  otherwise.  I  find  it  better, 
grander,  more  complete  in  its  style,  though  that 
style  may  not  be  the  best.    And  to  tell  you  the 

VOL.  I.  —  9 


130 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


truth,''  speaking  rather  lower,  ^^I  do  not  think 
that  I  shall  ever  see  Sotherton  again  with  so  much 
pleasure  as  I  do  now.  Another  summer  will  hardly 
improve  it  to  me." 

After  a  moment's  embarrassment  the  lady  re- 
plied: You  are  too  much  a  man  of  the  world  not 
to  see  with  the  eyes  of  the  world.  If  other  people 
think  Sotherton  improved,  I  have  no  doubt  that 
you  will." 

^^I  am  afraid  I  am  not  quite  so  much  the  man 
of  the  world  as  might  be  good  for  me  in  some 
points.  My  feelings  are  not  quite  so  evanescent, 
nor  my  memory  of  the  past  under  such  easy  domin- 
ion as  one  finds  to  be  the  case  with  men  of  the 
world." 

This  was  followed  by  a  short  silence.  Miss  Ber- 
tram began  again.  ^^You  seemed  to  enjoy  your 
drive  here  very  much  this  morning.  I  was  glad 
to  see  you  so  well  entertained.  You  and  Julia 
were  laughing  the  whole  way." 

^^Were  we?  Yes,  I  believe  we  were;  but  I 
have  not  the  least  recollection  at  what.  Oh,  I  be- 
lieve I  was  relating  to  her  some  ridiculous  stories 
of  an  old  Irish  groom  of  my  uncle's.  Your  sister 
loves  to  laugh." 

You  think  her  more  light-hearted  than  I  am.'^ 

^^More  easily  amused,"  he  replied;  ^^conse- 
quently, you  know,"  smiling,  better  company. 
I  could  not  have  hoped  to  entertain  you  with  Irish 
anecdotes  during  a  ten  miles'  drive." 

ISTaturall}^,  I  believe,  I  am  as  lively  as  Julia, 
but  I  have  more  to  think  of  now." 

You  have  undoubtedly,  —  and  there  are  situa- 


MANSEIELD  PAEK. 


131 


tions  in  wliich  veiy  high  spirits  would  denote  in- 
sensibility. Your  prospects,  however,  are  too  fair 
to  justify  want  of  spirits.  You  have  a  very 
smiling  scene  before  you." 

^^Do  you  mean  literally  or  figuratively?  Liter- 
ally, I  conclude.  Yes,  certainly,  the  sun  shines, 
and  the  park  looks  very  cheerful.  But  unluckily 
that  iron  gate,  that  ha-ha,  give  me  a  feeling  of  re- 
straint and  hardship.  I  cannot  get  out,  as  the 
starling  said."  As  she  spoke,  and  it  was  with  ex- 
pression, she  walked  to  the  gate ;  he  followed  her. 
"  Mr.  Eushworth  is  so  long  fetching  this  key!  ^' 

"  And  for  the  world  you  would  not  get  out  with- 
out the  key  and  without  Mr.  Rushworth's  authority 
and  protection,  or  I  think  ^^ou  might  with  little 
difficulty  pass  round  the  edge  of  the  gate,  here, 
with  my  assistance;  I  think  it  might  be  done,  if 
you  really  wished  to  be  more  at  large,  and  could 
allow  yourself  to  think  it  not  prohibited." 

Prohibited!  i^onsense!  I  certainly  can  get  out 
that  way,  and  I  will.  Mr.  Eushworth  will  be  here 
in  a  moment,  you  know,  —  we  shall  not  be  out  of 
sight." 

Or  if  we  are.  Miss  Price  will  be  so  good  as  to 
tell  him  that  he  will  find  us  near  that  knoll,  the 
grove  of  oak  on  the  knoll." 

Panny,  feeling  all  this  to  be  wrong,  could  not 
help  making  an  effort  to  prevent  it.  You  will 
hurt  yourself.  Miss  Bertram,"  she  cried,  ^^you 
will  certainly  hurt  yourself  against  those  spikes,  — 
you  will  tear  your  gown,  you  will  be  in  danger 
of  slipping  into  the  ha-ha.  You  had  better  not 
go." 


132 


MANSFIELD  PAEK. 


Her  cousin  was  safe  on  the  other  side  while 
these  words  were  spoken;  and  smiling  with  all  the 
good-humor  of  success,  she  said,  Thank  you,  my 
dear  Fanny ;  but  I  and  my  gown  are  alive  and  well, 
and  so  good-hy." 

Fanny  was  again  left  to  her  solitude,  and  with 
no  increase  of  pleasant  feelings,  for  she  was  sorry 
for  almost  all  that  she  had  seen  and  heard,  as- 
tonished at  Miss  Bertram,  and  angry  with  Mr. 
Crawford.  By  taking  a  circuitous  and,  as  it  ap- 
peared to  her,  very  unreasonable  direction  to  the 
knoll,  they  were  soon  beyond  her  eye;  and  for 
some  minutes  longer  she  remained  without  sight 
or  sound  of  any  companion.  She  seemed  to  have 
the  little  wood  all  to  herself.  She  could  almost 
have  thought  that  Edmund  and  Miss  Crawford  had 
left  it,  but  that  it  was  impossible  for  Edmund  to 
forget  her  so  entirely. 

She  was  again  roused  from  disagreeable  mus- 
ings by  sudden  footsteps;  somebody  was  coming 
at  a  quick  pace  down  the  principal  walk.  She 
expected  Mr.  Rushworth;  but  it  was  Julia,  who, 
hot  and  out  of  breath  and  with  a  look  of  disap- 
pointment, cried  out  on  seeing  her:  Heyday! 
where  are  the  others?  I  thought  Maria  and  Mr. 
Crawford  were  with  you.'^ 

Eanny  explained. 

^^A  pretty  trick,  upon  my  word!  I  cannot 
see  them  anywhere,"  looking  eagerly  into  the 
park.  ^^But  they  cannot  be  very  far  off,  and  I 
think  I  am  equal  to  as  much  as  Maria,  even 
without  help." 

^^But,   Julia,    Mr.   Eush worth    will  be  here 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


133 


in  a  moment  with  the  key.  Do  wait  for  Mr. 
Eushworth.^^ 

^^Not  I,  indeed.  I  have  had  enough  of  the 
family  for  one  morning.  Why,  child,  I  have 
but  this  moment  escaped  from  his  horrible  mother. 
Such  a  penance  as  I  have  been  enduring,  while 
you  were  sitting  here  so  composed  and  so  happy! 
It  might  have  been  as  well,  perhaps,  if  you  had 
been  in  my  place;  but  you  always  contrive  to 
keep  out  of  these  scrapes.'' 

This  was  a  most  unjust  reflection;  but  Fanny 
could  allow  for  it,  and  let  it  pass :  Julia  was 
vexed,  and  her  temper  was  hasty;  but  she  felt 
that  it  would  not  last,  and  therefore,  taking  no 
notice,  only  asked  her  if  she  had  not  seen  Mr. 
Eushworth. 

^^Yes,  yes,  we  saw  him.  He  was  posting 
away  as  if  upon  life  and  death,  and  could  but 
just  spare  time  to  tell  us  his  errand,  and  where 
you  all  were.'^ 

^^It  is  a  pity  that  he  should  have  so  much 
trouble  for  nothing.'^ 

'^That  is  Miss  Maria's  concern.  I  am  not 
obliged  to  punish  myself  for  her  sins.  The  mother 
I  could  not  avoid,  as  long  as  my  tiresome  aunt 
was  dancing  about  with  the  housekeeper;  but  the 
son  I  can  get  away  from." 

And  she  immediately  scrambled  across  the  fence, 
and  walked  away,  not  attending  to  Fanny's  last 
question  of  whether  she  had  seen  anything  of 
Miss  Crawford  and  Edmund.  The  sort  of  dread 
in  which  Fanny  now  sat  of  seeing  Mr.  Rush  worth 
prevented  her  thinking  so  much  of  their  contin- 


134 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


ued  absence,  however,  as  she  might  have  done. 
She  felt  that  he  had  been  very  ill  used,  and  was 
quite  unhappy  in  having  to  communicate  what 
had  passed.  He  joined  her  within  five  minutes 
after  Julia's  exit;  and  though  she  made  the  best 
of  the  story,  he  was  evidently  mortified  and  dis- 
pleased in  no  common  degree.  At  first  he  scarcely 
said  anything;  his  looks  only  expressed  his  ex- 
treme surprise  and  vexation,  and  he  walked  to 
the  gate  and  stood  there,  without  seeming  to 
know  what  to  do. 

^^They  desired  me  to  stay,  — my  cousin  Maria 
charged  me  to  say  that  you  would  find  them  at 
that  knoll,  or  thereabouts." 

'^I  do  not  believe  I  shall  go  any  farther/' 
said  he,  sullenly;  I  see  nothing  of  them.  By  the 
time  I  get  to  the  knoll,  the}^  may  be  gone  some- 
where else.    I  have  had  walking  enough.'' 

And  he  sat  down  with  a  most  gloomy  counte- 
nance by  Fanny. 

^^I  am  very  sorry,"  said  she;  ^^it  is  very  un- 
lucky." And  she  longed  to  be  able  to  say  some- 
thing more  to  the  purpose. 

After  an  interval  of  silence,  ^^I  think  they 
might  as  well  have  stayed  for  me,"  said  he. 

^^Miss  Bertram  thought  you  would  follow  her." 

^^I  should  not  have  had  to  follow  her  if  she 
had  stayed." 

This  could  not  be  denied,  and  Fanny  was  si- 
lenced. After  another  pause  he  went  on:  ^^Pray, 
Miss  Price,  are  you  such  a  great  admirer  of 
this  Mr.  Crawford  as  some  people  are?  For  my 
part  I  can  see  nothing  in  him." 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


135 


^^I  do  not  tliink  him  at  all  handsome." 

Handsome!  ISTobody  can  call  such  an  under- 
sized man  handsome.  He  is  not  five  foot  nine. 
I  should  not  wonder  if  he  was  not  more  than  five 
foot  eight.  I  think  he  is  an  ill-looking  fellow. 
In  my  opinion,  these  Crawfords  are  no  addition 
at  all.    We  did  very  well  without  them.^' 

A  small  sigh  escaped  Fanny  here,  and  she  did 
not  know  how  to  contradict  him. 

^^If  I  had  made  any  difficulty  about  fetching 
the  key,  there  might  have  been  some  excuse ;  but  I 
went  the  very  moment  she  said  she  wanted  it." 

Nothing  could  be  more  obliging  than  your 
manner,  I  am  sure,  and  I  dare  say  you  walked  as 
fast  as  you  could;  but  still  it  is  some  distance, 
you  know,  from  this  spot  to  the  house,  quite  into 
the  house;  and  when  people  are  waiting  they  are 
bad  judges  of  time,  and  every  half-minute  seems 
like  five.'^ 

He  got  up  and  walked  to  the  gate  again,  and 
wished  he  had  had  the  key  about  him  at  the 
time."  Fanny  thought  she  discerned  in  his 
standing  there  an  indication  of  relenting,  which 
encouraged  her  to  another  attempt,  and  she  said 
therefore:  It  is  a  pity  you  should  not  join  them. 
They  expected  to  have  a  better  view  of  the  house 
from  that  part  of  the  park,  and  will  be  thinking 
how  it  may  be  improved;  and  nothing  of  that  sort, 
you  know,  can  be  settled  without  you." 

She  found  herself  more  successful  in  sending 
away  than  in  retaining  a  companion.  Mr.  Rush- 
worth  was  worked  on.  ^^Well,"  said  he,  ^^if 
you  really  think  I  had  better  go;   it  would  be 


136 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


foolish  to  bring  the  key  for  nothing."  And  let'* 
ting  himself  out,  he  walked  off  without  further 
ceremony. 

Fanny's  thoughts  were  now  all  engrossed  by  the 
two  who  had  left  her  so  long  ago;  and  getting 
quite  impatient,  she  resolved  to  go  in  search  of 
them.  She  followed  their  steps  along  the  bottom 
walk,  and  had  just  turned  up  into  another,  when 
the  voice  and  the  laugh  of  Miss  Crawford  once 
more  caught  her  ear;  the  sound  approached,  and 
a  few  more  windings  brought  them  before  her. 
They  were  just  returned  into  the  wilderness  from 
the  park,  to  which  a  side  gate,  not  fastened,  had 
tempted  them  very  soon  after  their  leaving  her, 
and  they  had  been  across  a  portion  of  the  park  into 
the  very  avenue  which  Fanny  had  been  hoping  the 
whole  morning  to  reach  at  last,  and  had  been 
sitting  down  under  one  of  the  trees.  This  was 
their  history.  It  was  evident  that  they  had  been 
spending  their  time  pleasantly,  and  were  not 
aware  of  the  length  of  their  absence.  Fanny's 
best  consolation  was  in  being  assured  that  Edmund 
had  wished  for  her  very  much,  and  that  he  should 
certainly  have  come  back  for  her,  had  she  not  been 
tired  already;  but  this  was  not  quite  sufficient  to 
do  away  the  pain  of  having  been  left  a  whole  hour, 
when  he  had  talked  of  only  a  few  minutes,  nor  to 
banish  the  sort  of  curiosity  she  felt,  to  know  what 
they  had  been  conversing  about  all  that  time ;  and 
the  result  of  the  whole  was  to  her  disappointment 
and  depression,  as  they  prepared,  by  general  agree- 
ment, to  return  to  the  house. 

On  reaching  the  bottom  of  the  steps  to  the  ter- 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


137 


race,  Mrs.  Eushworth  and  Mrs.  Norris  presented 
themselves  at  the  top,  just  ready  for  the  wilder- 
ness, at  the  end  of  an  hour  and  a  half  from  their 
leaving  the  house.  Mrs.  Norris  had  been  too  well 
employed  to  move  faster.  Whatever  cross  acci- 
dents had  occurred  to  intercept  the  pleasures  of 
her  nieces,  she  had  found  a  morning  of  complete 
enjoyment,  —  for  the  housekeeper,  after  a  great 
many  courtesies  on  the  subject  of  pheasants,  had 
taken  her  to  the  dairy,  told  her  all  about  their 
cows,  and  given  her  the  receipt  for  a  famous  cream 
cheese;  and  since  Julia's  leaving  them,  they  had 
been  met  by  the  gardener,  with  whom  she  had 
made  a  most  satisfactory  acquaintance,  for  she  had 
set  him  right  as  to  his  grandson's  illness,  con- 
vinced him  it  was  an  ague,  and  promised  him  a 
charm  for  it;  and  he,  in  return,  had  showed  her 
all  his  choicest  nursery  of  plants,  and  actually 
presented  her  with  a  very  curious  specimen  of 
heath. 

On  this  rencontre  they  all  returned  to  the  house 
together,  there  to  lounge  away  the  time  as  they 
could  with  sofas  and  chit-chat  and  Quarterly 
Reviews,  till  the  return  of  the  others,  and  the 
arrival  of  dinner.  It  was  late  before  the  Miss 
Bertrams  and  the  two  gentlemen  came  in,  and 
their  ramble  did  not  appear  to  have  been  more 
than  partially  agreeable,  or  at  all  productive  of 
anything  useful  with  regard  to  the  object  of  the 
day.  By  their  own  accounts  they  had  been  all 
walking  after  each  other,  and  the  junction  which 
had  taken  place  at  last  seemed,  to  Fanny's  obser- 
vation, to  have  been  as  much  too  late  for  re* 


138 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


establishing  harmony  as  it  confessedly  had  been 
for  determining  on  any  alteration.  She  felt,  as 
she  looked  at  Julia  and  Mr.  E-ushworth,  that  hers 
was  not  the  only  dissatisfied  bosom  amongst  them ; 
there  was  gloom  on  the  face  of  each.  Mr.  Craw- 
ford and  Miss  Bertram  were  much  more  gay,  and 
she  thought  that  he  was  taking  particular  pains, 
during  dinner,  to  do  away  any  little  resentment  of 
the  other  two,  and  restore  general  good-humor. 

Dinner  was  soon  followed  by  tea  and  coffee,  a 
ten  miles'  drive  home  allowed  no  waste  of  hours; 
and  from  the  time  of  their  sitting  down  to  table, 
it  was  a  quick  succession  of  bus}^  nothings  till  the 
carriage  came  to  the  door,  and  Mrs.  Norris,  having 
fidgeted  about  and  obtained  a  few  pheasants'  eggs 
and  a  cream  cheese  from  the  housekeeper,  and 
made  abundance  of  civil  speeches  to  Mrs.  Eush- 
worth,  was  ready  to  lead  the  way.  At  the  same 
moment  Mr.  Crawford,  approaching  Julia,  said, 
^ '  I  hope  I  am  not  to  lose  my  companion,  unless 
she  is  afraid  of  the  evening  air  in  so  exposed  a 
seat."  The  request  had  not  been  foreseen,  but 
was  very  graciously  received;  and  Julia's  day  was 
likely  to  end  almost  as  well  as  it  began.  Miss 
Bertram  had  made  up  her  mind  to  something 
different,  and  was  a  little  disappointed;  but  her 
conviction  of  being  really  the  one  preferred  com- 
forted her  under  it,  and  enabled  her  to  receive  Mr. 
Kushworth's  parting  attentions  as  she  ought.  He 
w^as  certainly  better  pleased  to  hand  her  into  the 
barouche  than  to  assist  her  in  ascending  the  box, 
—  and  his  complacency  seemed  confirmed  by  the 
arrangement. 


MANSEIELD  PARK. 


139 


'^Well,  Fanny,  this  has  been  a  fine  day  for  you, 
upon  my  word!  said  Mrs.  Norris,  as  they  drove 
through  the  park.  Nothing  but  pleasure  from 
beginning  to  end!  I  am  sure  you  ought  to  be 
very  much  obliged  to  your  aunt  Bertram  and  me 
for  contriving  to  let  3^ou  go.  A  pretty  good  day's 
amusement  you  have  had! 

Maria  was  just  discontented  enough  to  say 
directly,  ^^I  think  you  have  done  pretty  well  your- 
self, ma'am.  Your  lap  seems  full  of  good  things, 
and  here  is  a  basket  of  something  between  us, 
which  has  been  knocking  my  elbow  unmercifully.'' 

^^My  dear,  it  is  only  a  beautiful  little  heath, 
which  that  nice  old  gardener  would  make  me  take; 
but  if  it  is  in  your  way,  I  will  have  it  in  my  lap 
directly.  There,  Fanny,  you  shall  carry  that 
parcel  for  me,  —  take  great  care  of  it,  —  do  not  let 
it  fall;  it  is  a  cream  cheese,  just  like  the  excellent 
one  we  had  at  dinner.  Nothing  would  satisfy  that 
good  old  Mrs.  Whitaker  but  my  taking  one  of  the 
cheeses.  I  stood  out  as  long  as  I  could,  till  the 
tears  almost  came  into  her  eyes,  and  I  knew  it  was 
just  the  sort  that  my  sister  would  be  delighted 
with.  That  Mrs.  Whitaker  is  a  treasure!  She 
was  quite  shocked  when  I  asked  her  whether  w^ne 
was  allowed  at  the  second  table,  and  she  has  turned 
away  two  housemaids  for  wearing  white  gowns. 
Take  care  of  the  cheese,  Fanny.  Now  I  can  man- 
age the  other  parcel  and  the  basket  very  well." 

^'What  else  have  you  been  sponging?"  said 
Maria,  half  pleased  that  Sotherton  should  be  so 
complimented. 

Sponging,  my  dear!    It  is  nothing  but  four 


140 


MANSFIELD  PAEK. 


of  those  beautiful  pheasants'  eggs,  which  Mrs. 
Whitaker  would  quite  force  upon  me;  she  would 
not  take  a  denial.  She  said  it  must  be  such  an 
amusement  to  me,  as  she  understood  I  lived  quite 
alone,  to  have  a  few  living  creatures  of  that  sort; 
and  so,  to  be  sure,  it  will.  I  shall  get  the  dairy- 
maid to  set  them  under  the  first  spare  hen,  and  if 
they  come  to  good  I  can  have  them  moved  to  my 
own  house  and  borrow  a  coop;  and  it  will  be  a 
great  delight  to  me  in  my  lonely  hours  to  attend 
to  them.  And  if  I  have  good  luck,  your  mother 
shall  have  some.^' 

It  was  a  beautiful  evening,  mild  and  still,  and 
the  drive  was  as  pleasant  as  the  serenity  of  nature 
could  make  it;  but  when  Mrs.  Norris  ceased 
speaking,  it  was  altogether  a  silent  drive  to  those 
within.  Their  spirits  were  in  general  exhausted; 
and  to  determine  whether  the  day  had  afforded 
most  pleasure  or  pain,  might  occupy  the  medita- 
tions of  almost  all. 


CHAPTER  XL 


The  day  at  Sotherton,  with  all  its  imperfections, 
afforded  the  Miss  Bertrams  much  more  agreeable 
feelings  than  were  derived  from  the  letters  from 
Antigua,  which  soon  afterwards  reached  Mansfield. 
It  was  much  pleasanter  to  think  of  Henry  Craw- 
ford than  of  their  father;  and  to  think  of  their 
father  in  England  again  within  a  certain  period, 
which  these  letters  obliged  them  to  do,  was  a 
most  unwelcome  exercise. 

November  was  the  black  month  fixed  for  his 
return.  Sir  Thomas  wrote  of  it  with  as  much  de- 
cision as  experience  and  anxiety  could  authorize. 
His  business  was  so  nearly  concluded  as  to  justify 
him  in  proposing  to  take  his  passage  in  the  Sep- 
tember packet,  and  he  consequently  looked  for- 
ward with  the  hope  of  being  with  his  beloved 
family  again  early  in  November. 

Maria  was  more  to  be  pitied  than  Julia;  for  to 
her  the  father  brought  a  husband,  and  the  return 
of  the  friend  most  solicitous  for  her  happiness 
would  unite  her  to  the  lover,  on  whom  she  had 
chosen  that  happiness  should  depend.  It  was  a 
gloomy  prospect,  and  all  that  she  could  do  was  to 
throw  a  mist  over  it,  and  hope,  when  the  mist 
cleared  away,  she  should  see  something  else.  It 
would  hardly  be  early  in  November;  there  were 


142 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


generally  delays,  a  bad  passage  or  somethings  — ■ 
that  favoring  something  which  everybody  who  shuts 
their  eyes  while  they  look,  or  their  understandings 
while  they  reason,  feels  the  comfort  of.  It  would 
probably  be  the  middle  of  November  at  least;  the 
middle  of  November  was  three  months  off.  Three 
months  comprised  thirteen  weeks.  Much  might 
happen  in  thirteen  weeks. 

Sir  Thomas  would  have  been  deeply  mortified 
by  a  suspicion  of  half  that  his  daughters  felt  on 
the  subject  of  his  return,  and  would  hardly  have 
found  consolation  in  a  know^ledge  of  the  interest  it 
excited  in  the  breast  of  another  young  lady.  Miss 
Crawford,  on  walking  up  wdth  her  brother  to  spend 
the  evening  at  Mansfield  Park,  heard  the  good 
news;  and  though  seeming  to  have  no  concern  in 
the  affair  beyond  politeness,  and  to  have  vented  all 
her  feelings  in  a  quiet  congratulation,  heard  it 
with  an  attention  not  so  easily  satisfied.  Mrs. 
Norris  gave  the  particulars  of  the  letters,  and 
the  subject  was  dropped;  but  after  tea,  as  Miss 
Crawford  w^as  standing  at  an  open  window  with 
Edmund  and  Fanny  looking  out  on  a  tw^ilight 
scene,  while  the  Miss  Bertrams,  Mr.  Kusliworth, 
and  Henry  Crawford  were  all  busy  with  candles 
at  the  pianoforte,  she  suddenly  revived  it  by  turn- 
ing round  towards  the  group,  and  saying,  ^^How 
happy  Mr.  Eush worth  looks !  He  is  thinking  of 
November.'^ 

Edmund  looked  round  at  Mr.  Eushworth  too, 
but  had  nothing  to  say.  ^^Your  father's  return 
will  be  a  very  interesting  event.'' 

^^It  will,  indeed,  after  such  an  absence, — an 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


143 


absence  not  only  long,  but  including  so  many 
dangers.'' 

^^It  will  be  the  forerunner  also  of  other  interest- 
ing events, — your  sister's  marriage,  and  your 
taking  orders." 

^^Yes.'' 

Don't  be  affronted,'^  said  she,  laughing;  ^^but 
it  does  put  me  in  mind  of  some  of  the  old  heathen 
heroes,  who,  after  performing  great  exploits  in  a 
foreign  land,  offered  sacrifices  to  the  gods  on  their 
safe  return." 

There  is  no  sacrifice  in  the  case,"  replied 
Edmund,  with  a  serious  smile,  and  glancing  at 
the  pianoforte  again;  ^^it  is  entirely  her  own 
doing." 

^^Oh,  yes,  I  know  it  is.  I  was  merely  joking. 
She  has  done  no  more  than  what  every  young 
woman  would  do;  and  I  have  no  doubt  of  her  be- 
ing extremely  happy.  My  other  sacrifice  of  course 
you  do  not  understand." 

^^My  taking  orders,  I  assure  you,  is  quite  as 
voluntary  as  Maria's  marrying." 

^^It  is  fortunate  that  your  inclination  and  your 
father's  convenience  should  accord  so  well.  There 
is  a  very  good  living  kept  for  you,  I  understand, 
hereabouts." 

Which  you  suppose  has  biassed  me." 
But  that  I  am  sure  it  has  not,"  cried  Fanny. 
Thank  you  for  your  good  word,  Fanny,  but  it 
is  more  than  I  would  affirm  myself.  On  the  con- 
trary, the  knowing  that  there  was  such  a  provision 
for  me  probably  did  bias  me.  Nor  can  I  think  it 
wrong  that  it  should.    There  was  no  natural  dis- 


144 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


inclination  to  be  overcome,  and  I  see  no  reason 
why  a  man  should  make  a  worse  clergyman  for 
knowing  that  he  will  have  a  competence  early  in 
life.  I  was  in  safe  hands.  I  hope  I  should  not 
have  been  influenced  myself  in  a  wrong  way,  and 
I  am  sure  my  father  was  too  conscientious  to  have 
allowed  it.  I  have  no  doubt  that  I  was  biassed, 
but  I  think  it  was  blamelessly.'' 

^^It  is  the  same  sort  of  thing,"  said  Fanny, 
after  a  short  pause,  ^^as  for  the  son  of  an  admiral 
to  go  into  the  navy,  or  the  son  of  a  general  to  be 
in  the  army,  and  nobody  sees  anything  wrong  in 
that.  Nobody  wonders  that  they  should  prefer  the 
line  where  their  friends  can  serve  them  best,  or 
suspects  them  to  be  less  in  earnest  in  it  than  they 
appear." 

^^No,  my  dear  Miss  Price,  and  for  reasons  good. 
The  profession,  either  navy  or  army,  is  its  own 
justification.  It  has  everything  in  its  favor,  — 
heroism,  danger,  bustle,  fashion.  Soldiers  and  sail- 
ors are  always  acceptable  in  society.  Nobody  can 
wonder  that  men  are  soldiers  and  sailors." 

^^But  the  motives  of  a  man  who  takes  orders 
with  the  certainty  of  preferment  may  be  fairly  sus- 
pected, you  think?"  said  Edmund.  ^^Tobe  jus- 
tified in  your  eyes,  he  must  do  it  in  the  most 
complete  uncertainty  of  any  provision.'' 

^^What!  take  orders  without  a  living!  No; 
that  is  madness  indeed,  absolute  madness." 

Shall  I  ask  you  how  the  church  is  to  be  filled, 
if  a  man  is  neither  to  take  orders  with  a  living 
nor  without?  No,  for  you  certainly  would  not 
know  what  to  say.    But  I  must  beg  some  advan- 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


145 


tage  to  the  clergyman  from  your  own  argument. 
As  he  cannot  be  influenced  by  those  feelings  which 
you  rank  highly  as  temptation  and  reward  to  the 
soldier  and  sailor  in  their  choice  of  a  profession,  as 
heroism  and  noise  and  fashion  are  all  against  him, 
he  ought  to  be  less  liable  to  the  suspicion  of  wanting 
sincerity  or  good  intentions  in  the  choice  of  his." 

"  Oh,  no  doubt  he  is  very  sincere  in  preferring 
an  income  ready  made,  to  the  trouble  of  working 
for  one ;  and  has  the  best  intentions  of  doing  noth- 
ing all  the  rest  of  his  days  but  eat,  drink,  and 
grow  fat.  It  is  indolence,  Mr.  Bertram,  indeed, 
indolence  and  love  of  ease,  —  a  want  of  all  laudable 
ambition,  of  taste  for  good  company,  or  of  inclina- 
tion to  take  the  trouble  of  being  agreeable  —  which 
make  men  clergymen.  A  clergyman  has  nothing 
to  do  but  to  be  slovenly  and  selfish,  —  read  the 
newspaper,  watch  the  weather,  and  quarrel  with 
his  wife.  His  curate  does  all  the  work,  and  the 
business  of  his  own  life  is  to  dine.'' 

There  are  such  clergymen,  no  doubt;  but  I 
think  they  are  not  so  common  as  to  justify  Miss 
Crawford  in  esteeming  it  their  general  character. 
I  suspect  that  in  this  comprehensive  and  (may  I  say) 
commonplace  censure  you  are  not  judging  from 
yourself,  but  from  prejudiced  persons,  whose  opin- 
ions you  have  been  in  the  habit  of  hearing.  It  is 
impossible  that  your  own  observation  can  have 
given  you  much  knowledge  of  the  clergy.  You 
can  have  been  personally  acquainted  with  very  few 
of  a  set  of  men  you  condemn  so  conclusively.  You 
are  speaking  what  you  have  been  told  at  your 
uncle's  table." 

VOL.  I.  — 10 


146 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


^^I  speak  what  appears  to  me  the  general  opin- 
ion; and  where  an  opinion  is  general,  it  is  usually 
correct.  Though  I  have  not  seen  much  of  the 
domestic  lives  of  clergymen,  it  is  seen  by  too 
many  to  leave  any  deficiency  of  information.'' 

Where  any  one  body  of  educated  men,  of 
whatever  denomination,  are  condemned  indiscrimi- 
nately, there  must  be  a  deficiency  of  information, 
or,"  smiling,  ^^of  something  else.  Your  uncle  and 
his  brother  admirals,  perhaps,  knew  little  of  clergy- 
men beyond  the  chaplains,  whom,  good  or  bad, 
they  were  always  wishing  away." 

Poor  William!  He  has  met  with  great  kind- 
ness from  the  chaplain  of  the  Antwerp,"  was  a 
tender  apostrophe  of  Fanny's,  very  much  to  the 
purpose  of  her  own  feelings,  if  not  of  the 
conversation. 

^^I  have  been  so  little  addicted  to  take  my 
opinions  from  my  uncle,"  said  Miss  Crawford, 
* '  that  I  can  hardly  suppose ;  and  since  you  push 
me  so  hard,  I  must  observe  that  I  am  not  en- 
tirely without  the  means  of  seeing  what  clergy- 
men are,  being  at  this  present  time  the  guest  of  my 
own  brother,  Dr.  Grant.  And  though  Dr.  Grant 
is  most  kind  and  obliging  to  me,  and  though  he  is 
really  a  gentleman,  and  I  dare  say  a  good  scholar 
and  clever,  and  often  preaches  good  sermons,  and 
is  very  respectable,  /  see  him  to  be  an  indolent, 
selfish  bon  vivaiif,  who  must  have  his  palate  con- 
sulted in  everything,  who  will  not  stir  a  finger 
for  the  convenience  of  any  one,  and  who,  more- 
over, if  the  cook  makes  a  blunder  is  out  of  humor 
with  his  excellent  wife.    To  own  the  truth;  Henry 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


147 


and  I  were  partly  driven  out  this  very  evening  by 
a  disappointment  about  a  green  goose,  which  he 
could  not  get  the  better  of.  My  poor  sister  was 
forced  to  stay  and  bear  it.'' 

^^I  do  not  wonder  at  your  disapprobation,  upon 
my  word.  It  is  a  great  defect  of  temper,  made 
worse  by  a  very  faulty  habit  of  self-indulgence; 
and  to  see  your  sister  suffering  from  it  must  be 
exceedingly  painful  to  such  feelings  as  yours. 
Fanny,  it  goes  against  us.  We  cannot  attempt 
to  defend  Dr.  Grant.'' 

^^No,"  replied  Fanny,  but  we  need  not  give 
up  his  profession  for  all  that;  because,  whatever 
profession  Dr.  Grant  had  chosen,  he  would  have 
taken  a  —  not  a  good  temper  into  it ;  and  as  he 
must  either  in  the  navy  or  army  have  had  a  great 
many  more  people  under  his  command  than  he 
has  now,  I  think  more  would  have  been  made  un- 
happy by  him  as  a  sailor  or  soldier  than  as  a 
clergyman.  Besides,  I  cannot  but  suppose  that 
whatever  there  may  be  to  wish  otherwise  in  Dr. 
Grant,  would  have  been  in  a  greater  danger  of 
becoming  worse  in  a  more  active  and  worldly  pro- 
fession, where  he  would  have  had  less  time  and 
obligation,  — where  he  might  have  escaped  that 
knowledge  of  himself,  the  frequency,  at  least,  of  that 
knowledge  which  it  is  impossible  he  should  escape 
as  he  is  now.  A  man,  a  sensible  man  like  Dr. 
Grant,  cannot  be  in  the  habit  of  teaching  others 
their  duty  every  week,  cannot  go  to  church  twice 
every  Sunday,  and  preach  such  verj^  good  sermons 
in  so  good  a  manner  as  he  does,  without  being  the 
better  for  it  himself.    It  must  make  him  think; 


148 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


and  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  oftener  endeavors  to 
restrain  himself  than  he  would  if  he  had  been 
anything  but  a  clergyman/^ 

*^We  cannot  prove  the  contrary,  to  be  sure,  — 
but  I  wish  you  a  better  fate,  Miss  Price,  than  to 
be  the  wife  of  a  man  whose  amiableness  depends 
upon  his  own  sermons ;  for  though  he  may  preach 
himself  into  a  good  humor  every  Sunday,  it  will 
be  bad  enough  to  have  him  quarrelling  about 
green  geese  from  Monday  morning  till  Saturday 
night. 

^^I  think  the  man  who  could  often  quarrel  with 
Fanny,"  said  Edmund,  affectionately,  ^^must  be 
beyond  the  reach  of  any  sermons.'^ 

Fanny  turned  farther  into  the  window;  and 
Miss  Crawford  had  only  time  to  say,  in  a  pleasant 
manner,  ^^I  fancy  Miss  Price  has  been  more  used 
to  deserve  praise  than  to  hear  it;  when  being 
earnestly  invited  by  the  Miss  Bertrams  to  join  in 
a  glee,  she  tripped  off  to  the  instrument,  leaving 
Edmund  looking  after  her  in  an  ecstasy  of  admira- 
tion of  all  her  many  virtues,  from  her  obliging 
manners  down  to  her  light  and  graceful  tread. 

There  goes  good  humor,  I  am  sure,"  said  he 
presently;  there  goes  a  temper  which  would 
never  give  pain!  How  well  she  walks;  and  how 
readily  she  falls  in  with  the  inclination  of  others, 
joining  them  the  moment  she  is  asked!  What  a 
pity,''  he  added,  after  an  instant^s  reflection,  ^^that 
zhe  should  have  been  in  such  hands!  " 

Eanny  agreed  to  it,  and  had  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  him  continue  at  the  window  with  her,  in 
spite  oi  the  expected  glee;  and  of  having  his  eyes 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


149 


soon  turned,  like  liers,  towards  the  scene  without, 
where  all  that  was  solemn  and  soothing  and 
lovely  appeared  in  the  brilliancy  of  an  unclouded 
night,  and  the  contrast  of  the  deep  shade  of  the 
woods.  Fanny  spoke  her  feelings.  Here's 
harmony!'^  said  she;  here's  repose!  Here's 
what  may  leave  all  painting  and  all  music  behind, 
and  what  poetry  only  can  attempt  to  describe! 
Here  's  what  may  tranquillize  every  care,  and  lift 
the  heart  to  rapture!  When  I  look  out  on  such 
a  night  as  this,  I  feel  as  if  there  could  be  neither 
wickedness  nor  sorrow  in  the  world;  and  there 
certainly  would  be  less  of  both  if  the  sublimity  of 
nature  were  more  attended  to,  and  people  were 
carried  more  out  of  themselves  by  contemplating 
such  a  scene. '^ 

^^I  like  to  hear  your  enthusiasm,  Fanny.  It 
is  a  lovely  night,  and  they  are  much  to  be  pitied 
who  have  not  been  taught  to  feel  in  some  degree 
as  you  do,  — who  have  not  at  least  been  given  a 
taste  for  nature  in  early  life.  They  lose  a  great 
deal.'^ 

You  taught  me  to  think  and  feel  on  the  sub- 
ject, cousin." 

^^I  had  a  very  apt  scholar.  There's  Arcturus, 
looking  very  bright." 

^^Yes,  and  the  Bear.  I  wish  I  could  see 
Cassiopeia." 

We  must  go  out  on  the  lawn  for  that.  Should 
you  be  afraid?  " 

^^IsTot  in  the  least.  It  is  a  great  while  since  we 
have  had  any  star-gazing." 

^^Yes,  I  do  not  know  how  it  has  happened.'' 


150 


MANSFIELD  PARK 


The  glee  began.  We  will  stay  till  this  is  fin- 
ished, Fanny, said  he,  turning  his  back  on  the 
window;  and  as  it  advanced,  she  had  the  mortifi- 
cation of  seeing  him  advance  too,  moving  forward 
by  gentle  degrees  towards  the  instrument,  and 
when  it  ceased,  he  was  close  by  the  singers,  among 
the  most  urgent  in  requesting  to  hear  the  glee 
again. 

Fanny  sighed  alone  at  the  window  till  scolded 
away  by  Mrs.  Norris's  threats  of  catching  cold. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


Sir  Thomas  was  to  return  in  November,  and  his 
eldest  son  had  duties  to  call  him  earlier  home. 
The  approach  of  September  brought  tidings  of 
Mr.  Bertram,  first  in  a  letter  to  the  gamekeeper, 
and  then  in  a  letter  to  Edmund;  and  by  the  end 
of  August  he  arrived  himself,  to  be  gay,  agree- 
able, and  gallant  again  as  occasion  served  or  Miss 
Crawford  demanded,  —  to  tell  of  races  and  Wey- 
mouth and  parties  and  friends,  to  which  she 
might  have  listened  six  weeks  before  with  some 
interest,  and  altogether  to  give  her  the  fullest 
conviction,  by  the  power  of  actual  comparison,  of 
her  preferring  his  younger  brother. 

It  was  very  vexatious,  and  she  was  heartily 
sorry  for  it,  but  so  it  was;  and  so  far  from  now 
meaning  to  marry  the  elder,  she  did  not  even  want 
to  attract  him  beyond  what  the  simplest  claims  of 
conscious  beauty  required.  His  lengthened  absence 
from  Mansfield,  without  anything  but  pleasure  in 
view,  and  his  own  will  to  consult,  made  it  per- 
fectly clear  that  he  did  not  care  about  her;  and 
his  indifference  was  so  much  more  than  equalled 
by  her  own,  that  were  he  now  to  step  forth  the 
owner  of  Mansfield  Park,  the  Sir  Thomas  complete, 
which  he  was  to  be  in  time,  she  did  not  believe 
she  could  accept  him. 


152 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


The  season  and  duties  which  brought  Mr.  Ber- 
tram back  to  Mansfield  took  Mr.  Crawford  into 
Norfolk.  Everingham  could  not  do  without  him 
in  the  beginning  of  September.  He  went  for  a 
fortnight,  —  a  fortnight  of  such  dulness  to  the 
Miss  Bertrams  as  ought  to  have  put  them  both  on 
their  guard,  and  made  even  Julia  admit,  in  her 
jealousy  of  her  sister,  the  absolute  necessity  of 
distrusting  his  attentions,  and  wishing  him  not 
to  return;  and  a  fortnight  of  sufficient  leisure,  in 
the  intervals  of  shooting  and  sleeping,  to  have 
convinced  the  gentleman  that  he  ought  to  keep 
longer  away,  had  he  been  more  in  the  habit  of 
examiaing  his  own  motives,  and  of  reflecting  to 
what  the  indulgence  of  his  idle  vanity  was  tend- 
ing; but,  thoughtless  and  selfish  from  prosperity 
and  bad  example,  he  would  not  look  beymid  the 
present  moment.  The  sisters,  handsome,  clever, 
and  encouraging,  were  an  amusement  to  his  sated 
mind;  and  finding  nothing  in  Norfolk  to  equal 
the  social  pleasures  of  Mansfield,  he  gladly  re 
turned  to  it  at  the  time  appointed,  and  was  wel- 
comed thither  quite  as  gladly  by  those  whom  he 
came  to  trifle  with  further. 

Maria,  with  only  Mr.  Eush  worth  to  attend  to 
her,  and  doomed  to  the  repeated  details  of  his 
day's  sport,  good  or  bad,  his  boast  of  his  dogs,  his 
jealousy  of  his  neighbors,  his  doubts  of  their  quali- 
fication, and  his  zeal  after  poachers,  —  subjects 
which  will  not  find  their  way  to  female  feelings 
without  some  talent  on  one  side  or  some  attach- 
ment on  the  other,  — had  missed  Mr.  Crawford 
grievously;  and  Julia,  unengaged  and  unemployed^ 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


153 


felt  all  the  right  of  missing  him  much  more. 
Each  sister  believed  herself  the  favorite.  Julia 
might  be  justified  in  so  doing  by  the  hints  of 
Mrs.  Grant,  inclined  to  credit  what  she  wished; 
and  Maria  by  the  hints  of  Mr.  Crawford  himself. 
Everything  returned  into  the  same  channel  as 
before  his  absence;  his  manners  being  to  each  so 
animated  and  agreeable  as  to  lose  no  ground  with 
either,  and  just  stopping  short  of  the  consistence, 
the  steadiness,  the  solicitude,  and  the  warmth 
which  might  excite  general  notice. 

Eanny  was  the  only  one  of  the  party  who  found 
anything  to  dislike;  but  since  the  day  at  Sother- 
ton,  she  could  never  see  Mr.  Crawford  with  either 
sister  without  observation,  and  seldom  without 
wonder  or  censure;  and  had  her  confidence  in  her 
own  judgment  been  equal  to  her  exercise  of  it  in 
every  other  respect,  had  she  been  sure  that  she 
was  seeing  clearly  and  judging  candidl}^,  she 
would  probably  have  made  some  important  com- 
munications to  her  usual  confidant.  As  it  was, 
however,  she  only  hazarded  a  hint,  and  the  hint 
was  lost.  ^^I  am  rather  surprised,"  said  she, 
^^that  Mr.  Crawford  should  come  back  again  so 
soon,  after  being  here  so  long  before,  full  seven 
weeks;  for  I  had  understood  he  was  so  very  fond 
of  change  and  moving  about,  that  I  thought  some- 
thing would  certainly  occur  when  he  was  once 
gone,  to  take  him  elsewhere.  He  is  used  to  much 
gayer  places  than  Mansfield." 

^^It  is  to  his  credit,'^  was  Edmund's  answer, 
*^and  I  dare  say  it  gives  his  sister  pleasure.  She 
does  not  like  his  unsettled  habits.'^ 


154 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


What  a  favorite  lie  is  with  my  cousins! 

Yes,  his  manners  to  women  are  such  as  must 
please.  Mrs.  Grant,  I  believe,  suspects  him  of  a 
preference  for  Julia;  I  have  never  seen  much 
symptom  of  it,  but  I  wish  it  may  be  so.  He  has 
no  faults  but  what  a  serious  attachment  would 
remove.'' 

^^If  Miss  Bertram  were  not  engaged,"  said 
Fanny,  cautiously,  "  I  could  sometimes  almost 
think  that  he  admired  her  more  than  Julia. 

"  Which  is,  perhaps,  more  in  favor  of  his  liking 
Julia  best,  than  you,  Fanny,  may  be  aware;  for  I 
believe  it  often  happens  that  a  man,  before  he  has 
quite  made  up  his  own  mind,  will  distinguish  the 
sister  or  intimate  friend  of  the  woman  he  is  really 
thinking  of,  more  than  the  woman  herself.  Craw- 
ford has  too  much  sense  to  stay  here  if  he  found 
himself  i'n  any  danger  from  Maria;  and  I  am  not 
at  all  afraid  for  her,  after  such  a  proof  as  she  has 
given,  that  her  feelings  are  not  strong.'' 

Fanny  supposed  she  must  have  been  mistaken, 
and  meant  to  think  differently  in  future;  but 
with  all  that  submission  to  Edmund  could  do,  and 
all  the  help  of  the  coinciding  looks  and  hints 
which  she  occasionally  noticed  in  some  of  the 
others,  and  which  seemed  to  say  that  Julia  was 
Mr.  Crawford's  choice,  she  knew  not  always  what 
to  think.  She  was  privy,  one  evening,  to  the 
hopes  of  her  aunt  Norris  on  this  subject,  as  well 
as  to  her  feelings,  and  the  feelings  of  Mrs.  Eush- 
worth,  on  a  point  of  some  similarity,  and  could 
not  help  wondering  as  she  listened;  and  glad 
would  she  have  been  not  to  be  obliged  to  listen, 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


155 


for  it  was  while  all  the  other  young  people  were 
dancing,  and  she  sitting,  most  unwillingly,  among 
the  chaperons  at  the  fire,  longing  for  the  re-en- 
trance of  her  elder  cousin,  on  whom  all  her  own 
hopes  of  a  partner  then  depended.  It  was  Fanny's 
first  ball,  though  without  the  preparation  or  splen- 
dor of  many  a  young  lady's  first  ball,  being  the 
thought  only  of  the  afternoon,  built  on  the  late 
acquisition  of  a  violin-player  in  the  servants'  hall, 
and  the  possibility  of  raising  five  couple  with  the 
help  of  Mrs.  Grant  and  a  new  intimate  friend  of  Mr. 
Bertram's  just  arrived  on  a  visit.  It  had,  how- 
ever, been  a  very  happy  one  to  Fanny  through  four 
dances,  and  she  was  quite  grieved  to  be  losing  even 
a  quarter  of  an  hour.  While  waiting  and  wishing, 
looking  now  at  the  dancers  and  now  at  the  door, 
this  dialogue  between  the  two  above-mentioned 
ladies  was  forced  on  her :  — 

^^I  think,  ma'am,"  said  Mrs.  ^^orris,  her  eyes 
directed  towards  Mr.  Eushworth  and  Maria,  who 
were  partners  for  the  second  time,  we  shall  see 
some  happy  faces  again  now." 

^^Yes,  ma'am,  indeed,"  replied  the  other,  with 
a  stately  simper,  ^Hhere  will  be  some  satisfaction 
in  looking  on  now,  and  I  think  it  was  rather  a  pity 
they  should  have  been  obliged  to  part.  Young 
folks  in  their  situation  should  be  excused  comply- 
ing with  the  common  forms.  I  wonder  my  son 
did  not  propose  it." 

'^I  dare  say  he  did,  ma'am.  Mr.  Eushworth  is 
never  remiss.  But  dear  Maria  has  such  a  strict 
sense  of  propriety,  so  much  of  that  true  delicacy 
which  one  seldom   meets  with  nowadays,  Mrs, 


156 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


Eush worth,  that  wish  of  avoiding  particularity! 
Dear  ma'am,  only  look  at  her  face  at  this  mo- 
ment, —  how  different  from  what  it  was  the  two 
last  dances! 

Miss  Bertram  did  indeed  look  happy,  her  eyes 
were  sparkling  with  pleasure,  and  she  was  speak- 
ing with  great  animation;  for  Julia  and  her  part- 
ner, Mr.  Crawford,  were  close  to  her:  they  were 
all  in  a  cluster  together.  How  she  had  looked  be- 
fore, Fanny  could  not  recollect;  for  she  had  been 
dancing  with  Edmund  herself,  and  had  not  thought 
about  her. 

Mrs.  Norris  continued:  ^^It  is  quite  delightful, 
ma'am,  to  see  young  people  so  properly  happy,  so 
well  suited,  and  so  much  the  thing!  I  cannot  but 
think  of  dear  Sir  Thomas's  delight.  And  what 
do  you  say,  ma'am,  to  the  chance  of  another 
match?  Mr.  Eush worth  has  set  a  good  example, 
and  such  things  are  very  catching." 

Mrs.  Eush  worth,  who  saw  nothing  but  her  son, 
was  quite  at  a  loss.  ^^The  couple  above,  ma^am. 
Do  you  see  no  symptoms  there?  " 

^^Oh  dear,  — Miss  Julia  and  Mr.  Crawford. 
Yes,  indeed,  a  very  pretty  match.  What  is  his 
property?  " 

^'  Four  thousand  a  year." 
Very  well.  Those  who  have  not  more,  must 
be  satisfied  with  w^hat  they  have.  Four  thousand 
a  year  is  a  pretty  estate,  and  he  seems  a  very  gen- 
teel, steady  young  man;  so  I  hope  Miss  Julia  will 
be  very  happy." 

^'It  is  not  a  settled  thing,  ma'am,  yet. 
only  speak  of  it  among  friends.    But  I  have  very 


I^IANSFIELD  PAKK. 


157 


little  doubt  it  will  be.  He  is  growing  extremely 
particular  in  his  attentions/^ 

Fanny  could  listen  no  further.  Listening  and 
wondering  were  all  suspended  for  a  time,  for  Mr. 
Bertram  was  in  the  room  again;  and  though  feel- 
ing it  would  be  a  great  honor  to  be  asked  by  him, 
she  thought  it  must  happen.  He  came  towards 
their  little  circle;  but  instead  of  asking  her  to 
dance,  drew  a  chair  near  her,  and  gave  her  an  ac- 
count of  the  present  state  of  a  sick  horse,  and  the 
opinion  of  the  groom,  from  whom  he  had  just 
parted.  Fanny  found  that  it  was  not  to  be,  and 
in  the  modesty  of  her  nature  immediately  felt  that 
she  had  been  unreasonable  in  expecting  it.  When 
he  had  told  of  his  horse,  he  took  a  newspaper  from 
the  table,  and  looking  over  it  said  in  a  languid 
v/ay,  ' '  If  you  want  to  dance,  Fanny,  I  will  stand 
up  with  you."  With  more  than  equal  civility  the 
offer  was  declined;  she  did  not  wish  to  dance.  ^^I 
am  glad  of  it,''  said  he,  in  a  much  brisker  tone, 
and  throwing  down  the  newspaper  again,  '^for  I 
am  tired  to  death.  I  only  wonder  how  the  good 
people  can  keep  it  up  so  long.  They  had  need  be 
all  in  love,  to  find  any  amusement  in  such  folly,  — 
and  so  they  are,  I  fancy.  If  you  look  at  them  you 
may  see  they  are  so  many  couple  of  lovers,  —  all 
but  Yates  and  Mrs.  Grant,  — and  between  our- 
selves, she,  poor  woman,  must  want  a  lover  as 
much  as  any  one  of  them.  A  desperate  dull  life 
hers  must  be  with  the  doctor,"  making  a  sly  face 
as  he  spoke  towards  the  chair  of  the  latter,  who 
proving,  however,  to  be  close  at  his  elbow,  made 
60  instantaneous  a  change  of  expression  and  sub- 


158 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


ject  necessary,  as  Eanny,  in  spite  of  everything, 
could  hardly  help  laughing  at.  A  strange  busi- 
ness this  in  America,  Dr.  Grant  !  What  is  your 
opinion  ?  I  always  come  to  you  to  know  w^hat  I 
am  to  think  of  public  matters." 

^^My  dear  Tom, cried  his  aunt,  soon  after- 
wards, ^^as  you  are  not  dancing,  I  dare  say  you 
will  have  no  objection  to  join  us  in  a  rubber; 
shall  you?  then,  leaving  her  seat,  and  coming 
to  him  to  enforce  the  proposal,  added  in  a  whisper: 

We  want  to  make  a  table  for  Mrs.  Eushworth, 
you  know.  Your  mother  is  quite  anxious  about 
it,  but  cannot  very  well  spare  time  to  sit  down 
herself,  because  of  her  fringe.  Now,  you  and  I 
and  Dr.  Grant  will  just  do;  and  though  we  play 
but  half-crowns,  you  know  you  may  bet  half- 
guineas  with  him.'' 

^^I  should  be  most  happy,''  replied  he,  aloud, 
and  jumping  up  with  alacrity,  "  it  would  give  me 
the  greatest  pleasure,  but  that  I  am  this  moment 
going  to  dance.  Come,  Fanny,"  taking  her  hand, 
^^0  not  be  dawdling  any  longer,  or  the  dance 
will  be  over." 

Fanny  was  led  off  very  willingly,  though  it  was 
impossible  for  her  to  feel  much  gratitude  tow^ards 
her  cousin,  or  distinguish,  as  he  certainly  did, 
between  the  selfishness  of  another  person  and 
his  own. 

^^A  pretty  modest  request,  upon  my  word!"  he 
indignantly  exclaimed  as  they  walked  away.  "  To 
want  to  nail  me  to  a  card-table  for  the  next  two 
hours  with  herself  and  Dr.  Grant,  who  are  always 
quarrelling,    and   that  poking  old  woman^  who 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


159 


knows  no  more  of  whist  than  of  algebra.  I  wish 
mj  good  aunt  would  be  a  little  less  busy !  And  to 
ask  me  in  such  a  way  too!  without  ceremony,  be- 
fore them  all,  so  as  to  leave  me  no  possibility  of 
refusing!  That  is  what  I  dislike  most  particu- 
larly. It  raises  my  spleen  more  than  anything, 
to  have  the  pretence  of  being  asked,  of  being  given 
a  choice,  and  at  the  same  time  addressed  in  such  a 
way  as  to  oblige  one  to  do  the  very  thing,  — what- 
ever it  be !  If  I  had  not  luckily  thought  of  stand- 
ing up  with  you,  I  could  not  have  got  out  of  it.  It 
is  a  great  deal  too  bad.  But  when  my  aunt  has 
got  a  fancy  in  her  head,  nothing  can  stop  her.^' 


CHAPTEE  XIII. 


The  Honorable  John  Yates,  this  new  friend,  had 
not  much  to  recommend  him  bej^ond  habits  of 
fashion  and  expense,  and  being  the  younger  son 
of  a  lord  with  a  tolerable  independence;  and  Sir 
Thomas  would  probably  have  thought  his  introduc- 
tion at  Mansfield  by  no  -  means  desirable.  Mr. 
Bertram's  acquaintance  with  him  had  begun  at 
Weymouth,  where  they  had  spent  ten  days  to- 
gether in  the  same  society;  and  the  friendship,  if 
friendship  it  might  be  called,  had  been  proved  and 
perfected  by  Mr.  Yates's  being  invited  to  take 
Mansfield  in  his  way,  whenever  he  could,  and  by 
his  promising  to  come;  and  he  did  come  rather 
earlier  than  had  been  expected,  in  consequence  of 
the  sudden  breaking  up  of  a  large  party  assembled 
for  gayety  at  the  house  of  another  friend,  which  he 
had  left  Weymouth  to  join.  He  came  on  the  wings 
of  disappointment,  and  with  his  head  full  of  act- 
ing, for  it  had  been  a  theatrical  party;  and  the 
play  in  which  he  had  borne  a  part  was  within  two 
days  of  representation,  when  the  sudden  death  of 
one  of  the  nearest  connections  of  the  family  had 
destroyed  the  scheme  and  dispersed  the  performers. 
To  be  so  near  happiness,  so  near  fame,  so  near  the 
long  paragraph  in  praise  of  the  private  theatricals 
at  Ecclesford,  tho  seat  of  the  Eight  Hon.  Lord 


MANSFIELD  PARK, 


161 


Kavenshaw,  in  Cornwall,  wliicli  would  of  course  have 
immortalized  the  whole  party  for  at  least  a  twelve- 
month! and  being  so  near,  to  lose  it  all,  was  an 
injury  to  be  keenly  felt,  and  Mr.  Yates  could  talk 
of  nothing  else.  Ecclesford  and  its  theatre,  with 
its  arrangements  and  dresses,  rehearsals  and  jokes, 
was  his  never-failing  subject,  and  to  boast  of  the 
past  his  only  consolation. 

Happily  for  him,  a  love  of  the  theatre  is  so  gen- 
eral, an  itch  for  acting  so  strong  among  young 
people,  that  he  could  hardly  out-talk  the  interest 
of  his  hearers.  From  the  first  casting  of  the  parts 
to  the  epilogue,  it  was  all  bewitching,  and  there 
were  few  who  did  not  wish  to  have  been  a  party 
concerned,  or  would  have  hesitated  to  try  their 
skill.  The  play  had  been  Lovers'  Vows,"  and 
Mr.  Yates  was  to  have  been  Count  Cassel.  ^'A 
trifling  part,"  said  he,  ^^and  not  at  all  to  my 
taste,  and  such  a  one  as  I  certainly  would  not 
accept  again;  but  I  was  determined  to  make  no 
difficulties.  Lord  Eavenshaw  and  the  duke  had 
appropriated  the  only  two  characters  worth  playing 
before  I  reached  Ecclesford;  and  though  Lord  Ea- 
venshaw offered  to  resign  his  to  me,  it  was  impos- 
sible to  take  it,  you  know.  I  was  sorry  for  him 
that  he  should  have  so  mistaken  his  powers,  for  he 
was  no  more  equal  to  the  Baron,  —  a  little  man, 
with  a  weak  voice,  always  hoarse  after  the  first  ten 
minutes.  It  must  have  injured  the  piece  materi- 
ally; but  I  was  resolved  to  make  no  difficulties. 
Sir  Henry  thought  the  duke  not  equal  to  Fred- 
erick, but  that  was  because  Sir  Henry  wanted  the 
part  himself;  whereas  it  was  certainly  in  the  best 

VOL.  I.  — 11 


162 


MANSFIELD  TARK. 


hands  of  the  two.  I  was  surprised  to  see  Sir 
Henry  such  a  stick.  Luckily  the  strength  of  the 
piece  did  not  depend  upon  him.  Our  Agatha  was 
inimitable,  and  the  duke  was  thought  very  great 
by  many.  And  upon  the  whole  it  would  certainly 
have  gone  off  wonderfully.'^ 

It  was  a  hard  case,  upon  my  word/'  and,  I  do 
think  you  were  very  much  to  be  pitied/'  w^ere  the 
kind  responses  of  listening  sympathy. 

^^It  is  not  worth  complaining  about,  but  to  be 
sure  the  poor  old  dowager  could  not  have  died  at  a 
worse  time;  and  it  is  impossible  to  help  wishing 
that  the  news  could  have  been  suppressed  for  just 
the  three  days  we  wanted.  It  was  but  three  cla^^s ; 
and  being  only  a  grandmother,  and  all  happening 
two  hundred  miles  off,  I  think  there  would  have 
been  no  great  harm,  and  it  was  suggested,  I  know; 
but  Lord  E-avenshaw,  who  I  suppose  is  one  of 
the  most  correct  men  in  England,  would  not  hear 
of  it." 

An  after-piece  instead  of  a  comedy,"  said  Mr. 
Bertram.  "  ^Lovers'  Vow^s  '  were  at  an  end,  and 
Lord  and  Lady  Eavenshaw  left  to  act  my  Grand- 
mother by  themselves.  Well,  the  jointure  may 
comfort  him;  and  perhaps,  between  friends,  he 
began  to  tremble  for  his  credit  and  his  lungs  in 
the  Baron,  and  was  not  sorry  to  withdraw;  and  to 
make  you  amends,  Yates,  I  think  we  must  raise  a 
little  theatre  at  Mansfield,  and  ask  you  to  be  our 
manager. ' ' 

This,  though  the  thought  of  the  moment,  did 
not  end  with  the  moment;  for  the  inclination  to 
act  was  awakened,  and  in  no  one  more  strongly  than 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


163 


in  him  who  was  now  master  of  the  house^  and  who, 
having  so  much  leisure  as  to  make  almost  any 
novelty  a  certain  good,  had  likewise  such  a  degree 
of  lively  talents  and  comic  taste  as  were  exactly 
adapted  to  the  novelty  of  acting.  The  thought  re- 
turned again  and  again.  Oh  for  the  Ecclesford 
theatre  and  scenery  to  try  something  with!  Each 
sister  could  echo  the  wish;  and  Henry  Crawford, 
to  whom,  in  all  the  riot  of  his  gratifications,  it  was 
yet  an  untasted  pleasure,  was  quite  alive  at  the 
idea.  ^^I  really  believe,'^  said  he,  ^^I  could  be 
fool  enough  at  this  moment  to  undertake  any  char- 
acter that  ever  was  written,  from  Shylock  or 
Eichard  III.  down  to  the  singing  hero  of  a  farce 
in  his  scarlet  coat  and  cocked  hat.  I  feel  as  if  I 
could  be  anything  or  everything,  as  if  I  could  rant 
and  storm,  or  sigh,  or  cut  capers  in  any  tragedy 
or  comedy  in  the  English  language.  Let  us  be 
doing  something.  Be  it  only  half  a  play,  —  an 
act,  a  scene;  what  should  prevent  us?  E"ot  these 
countenances,,  I  am  sure,  ^'  looking  towards  the 
Miss  Bertrams;  ^^and  for  a  theatre,  what  signifies 
a  theatre?  "We  shall  be  only  amusing  ourselves. 
Any  room  in  this  house  might  suffice.'^ 

We  must  have  a  curtain,^'  said  Tom  Bertram, 

a  few  yards  of  green  baize  for  a  curtain,  and  per- 
haps that  may  be  enough. 

^^Oh,  quite  enough,'^  cried  Mr.  Yates,  ^^with 
only  just  a  side  wing  or  two  run  up,  doors  in  flat, 
and  three  or  four  scenes  to  be  let  down;  nothing 
more  would  be  necessary  on  such  a  plan  as  this. 
For  mere  amusement  among  ourselves^  we  should 
want  nothing  more.'' 


164 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


^^I  believe  we  must  be  satisfied  with  less,"  said 
Maria.  "  There  would  not  be  time,  and  other  dif- 
ficulties would  arise.  We  must  rather  adopt  Mr. 
Crawford^ s  views,  and  make  the  performance,  not 
the  theatre,  our  object.  Many  parts  of  our  best 
plays  are  independent  of  scenery.'^ 

^^Nay, "  said  Edmund,  who  began  to  listen  with 
alarm.  ^^Let  us  do  nothing  by  halves.  If  we  are 
to  act,  let  it  be  in  a  theatre  completely  fitted  up 
with  pit,  box,  and  gallery,  and  let  us  have  a  play 
entire  from  beginning  to  end;  so  as  it  be  a  German 
play,  no  matter  what,  with  a  good  tricking,  shift- 
ing after-piece,  and  a  figure-dance,  and  a  hornpipe, 
and  a  song  between  the  acts.  If  we  do  not  outdo 
Ecclesford,  we  do  nothing." 

^^Now,  Edmund,  do  not  be  disagreeable,"  said 
Julia.  Nobody  loves  a  play  better  than  you  do, 
or  can  have  gone  much  farther  to  see  one." 

^^True,  to  see  real  acting,  good  hardened  real 
acting;  but  I  would  hardly  walk  from  this  room  to 
the  next  to  look  at  the  raw  efforts  of  those  w^lio 
have  not  been  bred  to  the  trade,  —  a  set  of  gentle- 
men and  ladies,  who  have  all  the  disadvantages  of 
education  and  decorum  to  struggle  through." 

After  a  short  pause,  however,  the  subject  still 
continued,  and  was  discussed  with  unabated  eager- 
ness, every  one's  inclination  increasing  by  the  dis- 
cussion, and  a  knowledge  of  the  inclination  of  the 
rest;  and  though  nothing  was  settled  but  that  Tom 
Bertram  would  prefer  a  comedy,  and  his  sisters 
and  Henry  Crawford  a  tragedy,  and  that  nothing 
in  the  world  could  be  easier  than  to  find  a  piece 
which  would  please  them  all,  the  resolution  to  act 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


165 


something  or  other  seemed  so  decided  as  to  mal^e 
Edmund  quite  uncomfortable.  He  was  determined 
to  prevent  it,  if  possible,  though  his  mother,  who 
equally  heard  the  conversation  which  passed  at 
table,  did  not  evince  the  least  disapprobation. 

The  same  evening  afforded  him  an  opportunity 
of  trying  his  strength.  Maria,  Julia,  Henry  Craw- 
ford, and  Mr.  Yates  were  in  the  billiard-room. 
Tom,  returning  from  them  into  the  drawing-room, 
where  Edmund  was  standing  thoughtfully  by  the 
fire,  while  Lady  Bertram  was  on  the  sofa  at  a  little 
distance,  and  Fanny  close  beside  her  arranging  her 
work,  thus  began  as  he  entered,  — 

"  Such  a  horribly  vile  billiard-table  as  ours  is 
not  to  be  met  with,  I  believe,  above  ground!  I 
can  stand  it  no  longer,  and  I  think  I  may  say  that 
nothing  shall  ever  tempt  me  to  it  again;  but  one 
good  thing  I  have  just  ascertained,  —  it  is  the  very 
room  for  a  theatre,  precisely  the  shape  and  length 
for  it;  and  the  doors  at  the  farther  end,  communis 
eating  with  each  other,  as  they  may  be  made  to  do 
in  five  minutes,  by  merely  moving  the  bookcase 
in  my  father's  room,  is  the  very  thing  we  could 
have  desired,  if  we  had  set  down  to  wish  for  it. 
And  my  father's  room  will  be  an  excellent  green- 
room. It  seems  to  join  the  billiard-room  on 
purpose." 

^^You  are  not  serious,  Tom,  in  meaning  to 
act?  said  Edmund,  in  a  low  voice,  as  his  brother 
approached  the  fire. 

^^Not  serious!  Never  more  so,  I  assure  you. 
What  is  there  to  surprise  you  in  it?'' 

^^I  think  it  v>^ould  be  very  wrong.    In  a  gen- 


166 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


eral  liglit,  private  theatricals  are  open  to  some 
objections;  but  as  we  are  circumstanced,  I  must 
think  it  would  be  highly  injudicious,  and  more 
than  injudicious,  to  attempt  anything  of  the  kind. 
It  would  show  great  want  of  feeling  on  my  father's 
account,  absent  as  he  is,  and  in  some  degree  of 
constant  danger;  and  it  would  be  imprudent,  I 
think,  with  regard  to  Maria,  whose  situation  is 
a  very  delicate  one,  considering  everything,  ex- 
tremely delicate." 

^*'You  take  up  a  thing  so  seriously!  as  if  we 
were  going  to  act  three  times  a  week  till  my 
father's  return,  and  invite  all  the  countr3^  But 
it  is  not  to  be  a  display  of  that  sort.  We  mean 
nothing  but  a  little  amusement  among  ourselves, 
just  to  vary  the  scene,  and  exercise  our  powers 
in  something  new.  We  want  no  audience,  no 
publicity.  We  may  be  trusted,  I  think,  in  choos- 
ing some  play  most  perfectly  unexceptionable; 
and  I  can  conceive  no  greater  harm  or  danger 
to  any  of  us  in  conversing  in  the  elegant  language 
of  some  respectable  author  than  in  chattering  in 
words  of  our  own.  I  have  no  fears  and  no  scru- 
ples. And  as  to  my  father's  being  absent,  it  is 
so  far  from  an  objection  that  I  consider  it  rather 
as  a  motive;  for  the  expectation  of  his  return 
must  be  a  very  anxious  period  to  my  mother;  and 
if  we  can  be  the  means  of  amusing  that  anxiety, 
and  keeping  up  her  spirits  for  the  next  few  weeks, 
I  shall  think  our  time  very  well  spent,  and  so 
I  am  sure  will  he.  It  is  a  very  anxious  period 
for  her.'^ 

As  he  said   this,  each  looked   towards  their 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


167 


mother.  Lady  Bertram,  sunk  back  in  one  corner 
of  tlie  sofa, —  tlie  picture  of  health,  wealth,  ease, 
and  tranquillity, — was  just  falling  into  a  gentle 
dose;  while  Fanny  was  getting  through  the  few 
difficulties  of  her  work  for  her. 

Edmund  smiled,  and  shook  his  head. 

^^By  Jove!  this  won't  do,"  cried  Tom,  throw- 
ing himself  into  a  chair  with  a  hearty  laugh. 
^^To  be  sure,  my  dear  mother,  your  anxiety, —  I 
was  unlucky  there." 

^^What  is  the  matter?  "  asked  her  Ladyship, 
in  the  heavy  tone  of  one  half  roused :  ^  ^  I  was 
not  asleep.'' 

^^Oh  dear,  no,  ma'am,  — nobody  suspected  you. 
—  AYell,  Edmund,"  he  continued,  returning  to 
the  former  subject,  posture,  and  voice,  as  soon  as 
Lady  Bertram  began  to  nod  again,  ^^but  this 
I  will  maintain,  —  that  we  shall  be  doing  no 
harm." 

^^I  cannot  agree  with  you, — I  am  convinced 
that  my  father  would  totally  disapprove  it." 

And  I  am  convinced  to  the  contrary.  Nobody 
is  fonder  of  the  exercise  of  talent  in  young  people, 
or  promotes  it  more,  than  my  father;  and  for 
anything  of  the  acting,  spouting,  reciting  kind, 
I  think  he  has  always  a  decided  taste.  I  am  sure 
he  encouraged  it  in  us  as  boys.  How  many  a 
time  have  we  mourned  over  the  dead  body  of 
Julius  C^esar,  and  to  be'd  and  not  to  be'd  in  this 
very  room  for  his  amusement!  And  I  am  sure, 
my  name  was  Norval  every  evening  of  my  life 
through  one  Christmas  holidays." 

^'  It  was  a  very  different  thing.    You  must 


168 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


see  the  difference  yourself.  My  father  wished 
us,  as  schoolboys,  to  speak  well,  but  he  would 
never  wish  his  grown-up  daughters  to  be  acting 
plays.    His  sense  of  decorum  is  strict,'' 

^^I  know  all  that,''  said  Tom,  displeased.  ^^I 
know  my  father  as  well  as  you  do;  and  I  '11  take 
care  that  his  daughters  do  nothing  to  distress 
him.  Manage  your  own  concerns,  Edmund,  and 
I'll  take  care  of  the  rest  of  the  family." 

^^If  you  are  resolved  on  acting,"  replied  the 
persevering  Edmund,  '^1  must  hope  it  will  be 
in  a  very  small  and  quiet  way,  and  I  think  a 
theatre  ought  not  to  be  attempted.  It  would  be 
taking  liberties  with  my  father's  house  in  his 
absence  which  could  not  be  justified." 

^^Eor  everything  of  that  nature  I  will  be  an- 
swerable,"  said  Tom,  in  a  decided  tone.  ^*His 
house  shall  not  be  hurt.  I  have  quite  as  great  an  in- 
terest in  being  careful  of  his  house  as  you  can 
have;  and  as  to  such  alterations  as  I  was  suggest- 
ing just  now,  such  as  moving  a  bookcase,  or  un- 
locking a  door,  or  even  as  using  the  billiard-room 
for  the  space  of  a  week  without  playing  at  billiards 
in  it,  you  might  just  as  well  suppose  he  would 
object  to  our  sitting  more  in  this  room  and  less 
in  the  breakfast-room  than  we  did  before  he  went 
away,  or  to  my  sister's  pianoforte  being  moved  from 
one  side  of  the  room  to  the  other.  Absolute 
nonsense ! " 

"  The  innovation,  if  not  wrong  as  an  innovation, 
will  be  wrong  as  an  expense." 

Yes,  the  expense  of  such  an  undertaking  would 
be  prodigious!    Perhaps  it  might  cost  a  whole 


MANSllELD  PARK. 


169 


twenty  pounds.  Something  of  a  theatre  we  must 
have  undoubtedly,  but  it  will  be  on  the  sim]3lest 
plan,  —  a  green  curtain  and  a  little  carpenter's  work, 
and  that's  all;  and  as  the  carpenter's  work  may 
be  all  done  at  home  by  Christopher  Jackson  him- 
self, it  will  be  too  absurd  to  talk  of  expense;  and 
as  long  as  Jackson  is  employed,  everything  will  be 
right  with  Sir  Thomas.  Don't  imagine  that  no- 
body in  this  house  can  see  or  judge  but  yourself. 
Don't  act  yourself,  if  you  do  not  like  it;  but  don't 
expect  to  govern  everybody  else." 

No,  as  to  acting  myself,"  said  Edmund,  "  that 
I  absolutely  protest  against." 

Tom  walked  out  of  the  room  as  he  said  it,  and 
Edmund  was  left  to  sit  down  and  stir  the  fire  in 
thoughtful  vexation. 

Eanny,  w^ho  had  heard  it  all,  and  borne  Edmund 
company  in  every  feeling  throughout  the  whole, 
now  ventured  to  say,  in  her  anxiety  to  suggest 
some  comfort :  '  *  Perhaps  they  may  not  be  able  to 
find  any  play  to  suit  them.  Your  brother's  taste 
and  your  sisters'  seem  very  different." 

^^T  have  no  hope  there,  Eanny.  If  they  persist 
in  the  scheme,  they  will  find  something.  I  shall 
speak  to  my  sisters,  and  try  to  dissuade  them;  and 
that  is  all  I  can  do." 

' '  I  should  think  my  aunt  ^^orris  would  be  on 
your  side." 

"  I  dare  say  she  would,  but  she  has  no  influence 
with  either  Tom  or  my  sisters  that  could  be  of  any 
use ;  and  if  I  cannot  convince  them  myself,  I  shall 
let  things  take  their  course,  without  attempting  it 
through  her.    Eamily  squabbling  is  the  greatest 


170 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


evil  of  all,  and  we  had  better  do  anything  than  be 
altogether  by  the  ears.'^ 

His  sisters,  to  whom  he  had  an  opportunity  of 
speaking  the  next  morning,  were  quite  as  impa- 
tient of  his  advice,  quite  as  unyielding  to  his  rep- 
resentation, quite  as  determined  in  the  cause  of 
pleasure,  as  Tom.  Their  mother  had  no  objection 
to  the  plan,  and  they  were  not  in  the  least  afraid 
of  their  father's  disapprobation.  There  could  be 
no  harm  in  what  had  been  done  in  so  many  respect- 
able families,  and  by  so  many  women  of  the  first 
consideration;  and  it  must  be  scrupulousness  run 
mad,  that  could  see  anything  to  censure  in  a  plan 
like  theirs,  comprehending  only  brothers  and  sis- 
ters, and  intimate  friends,  and  which  would  never 
be  heard  of  beyond  themselves.  Julia  did  seem 
inclined  to  admit  that  Maria's  situation  might  re- 
quire particular  caution  and  delicacy,  but  that 
could  not  extend  to  her,  — she  was  at  liberty;  and 
Maria  evidently  considered  her  engagement  as  only 
raising  her  so  much  more  above  restraint,  and 
leaving  her  less  occasion  than  Julia  to  consult 
either  father  or  mother.  Edmund  had  little  to 
hope;  but  he  was  still  urging  the  subject,  when 
Henry  Crawford  entered  the  room,  fresh  from  the 
Parsonage,  calling  out:  ^^No  want  of  hands  in  our 
theatre,  Miss  Bertram.  No  want  of  under-strap- 
pers;  my  sister  desires  her  love,  and  hopes  to  be 
admitted  into  the  company,  and  will  be  happy  to 
take  the  part  of  any  old  duenna  or  tame  confidant 
that  you  may  not  like  to  do  yourselves." 

Maria  gave  Edmund  a  glance,  which  meant: 
<^  What  say  you  now?    Can  we  be  wrong  if  Mary 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


171 


Crawford  feels  the  same?  And  Edmund,  silenced, 
was  obliged  to  acknowledge  that  the  charm  of  act- 
ing might  well  carry  fascination  to  the  mind  of 
genius;  and  with  the  ingenuity  of  love,  to  dwell 
more  on  the  obliging,  accommodating  purport  of 
the  message  than  on  anything  else. 

The  scheme  advanced.  Opposition  was  vain; 
and  as  to  Mrs.  Norris,  he  was  mistaken  in  suppos- 
ing she  would  wish  to  make  any.  She  started  no 
difficulties  that  were  not  talked  down  in  five  min- 
utes by  her  eldest  nephew  and  niece,  who  were  all 
powerful  with  her;  and  as  the  whole  arrangement 
was  to  bring  very  little  expense  to  anybody,  and 
none  at  all  to  herself,  as  she  foresaw  in  it  all  the 
comforts  of  hurry,  bustle,  and  importance,  and 
derived  the  immediate  advantage  of  fancying  her- 
self obliged  to  leave  her  own  house,  where  she  had 
been  living  a  month  at  her  own  cost,  and  take  up 
her  abode  in  theirs,  that  every  hour  might  be  spent 
in  their  service,  she  was,  in  fact;  exceedingly 
delighted  with  the  project. 


CHAPTEE  XIV. 


Fanny  seemed  nearer  being  right  than  Edmund 
had  supposed.  The  business  of  finding  a  play  that 
would  suit  everybody  proved  to  be  no  trifle;  and 
the  carpenter  had  received  his  orders  and  taken  his 
measurements,  had  suggested  and  removed  at  least 
two  sets  of  difficulties,  and  having  made  the  neces- 
sity of  an  enlargement  of  plan  and  expense  fully 
evident,  was  already  at  work,  while  a  play  was 
still  to  seek.  Other  preparations  were  also  in 
hand.  An  enormous  roll  of  green  baize  had  ar- 
rived from  Northampton,  and  been  cut  out  by  Mrs. 
Norris  (with  a  saving,  by  her  good  management, 
of  full  three  quarters  of  a  yard),  and  was  actually 
forming  into  a  curtain  by  the  housemaids,  and  still 
the  play  was  wanting;  and  as  two  or  three  days 
passed  away  in  this  manner,  Edmund  began  almost 
to  hope  that  none  might  ever  be  found. 

There  were,  in  fact,  so  many  things  to  be  at- 
tended to,  so  many  people  to  be  pleased,  so  many 
best  characters  required,  and  above  all,  such  a  need 
that  the  play  should  be  at  once  both  tragedy  and 
comedy,  that  there  did  seem  as  little  chance  of  a 
decision  as  anything  pursued  by  youth  and  zeal 
could  hold  out. 

On  the  tragic  side  were  the  Miss  Bertrams, 
Henry  Crawford,  and  Mr.  Yates;  on  the  comic, 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


173 


Tom  Bertram,  not  quite  alone,  because  it  was  evi- 
dent that  Mary  Crawford's  Avislies,  though  politely 
kept  back,  inclined  the  same  way :  but  his  determi- 
nateness  and  his  power  seemed  to  make  allies 
unnecessary;  and  independent  of  this  great,  irre- 
concilable difference,  they  wanted  a  piece  contain- 
ing very  few  characters  in  the  whole,  but  every 
character  first-rate,  and  three  principal  women. 
All  the  best  plays  were  run  over  in  vain,  ^'either 
Hamlet,  nor  Macbeth,  nor  Othello,  nor  Douglas, 
nor  the  Gamester  presented  anything  that  could 
satisfy  even  the  tragedians;  and  the  Rivals,  the 
School  for  Scandal,  Wheel  of  Fortune,  Heir  at 
Law,  and  a  long  et  ccetera  were  successively  dis- 
missed with  yet  warmer  objections.  No  piece  could 
be  proposed  that  did  not  supply  somebody  with 
a  difficulty,  and  on  one  side  or  the  other  it  was  a 
continual  repetition  of,  ^^Oh,  no,  that  will  never 
do.  Let  us  have  no  ranting  tragedies.  Too  many 
characters.  ISTot  a  tolerable  woman's  part  in  the 
play.  Anything  but  that,  my  dear  Tom.  It  would 
be  impossible  to  fill  it  up.  One  could  not  expect 
anybody  to  take  such  a  part.  ^sTothing  but  buf- 
foonery from  beginning  to  end.  That  might  do, 
perhaps,  but  for  the  low  parts.  If  I  must  give  my 
opinion,  I  have  always  thought  it  the  most  insipid 
play  in  the  English  language.  I  do  not  wish  to 
make  objections,  I  shall  be  happy  to  be  of  any  use, 
but  I  think  we  could  not  choose  worse. 

Fanny  looked  on  and  listened,  not  unamused  to 
observe  the  selfishness  which,  more  or  less  dis- 
guised, seemed  to  govern  them  all,  and  wondering 
how  it  would  end.    For  her  own  gratification  she 


174 


MANSFIELD  PAEK. 


could  have  wished  that  something  might  be  acted, 
for  she  had  never  seen  even  half  a  play;  but 
everything  of  higher  consequence  was  against  it. 

"  This  will  never  do/'  said  Tom  Bertram,  at  last. 

We  are  wasting  time  most  abominably.  Some- 
thing must  be  fixed  on.  No  matter  what,  so  that 
something  is  chosen.  We  must  not  be  so  nice.  A 
few  characters  too  many  must  not  frighten  us.  We 
must  double  them.  We  must  descend  a  little.  If 
a  part  is  insignificant,  the  greater  our  credit  in 
making  anything  of  it.  From  this  moment  /  make 
no  difficulties.  I  take  any  part  you  choose  to  give 
me,  so  as  it  be  comic.  Let  it  but  be  comic,  I 
condition  for  nothing  more." 

For  about  the  fifth  time  he  then  proposed  the 
Heir  at  Law,  doubting  only  whether  to  prefer 
Lord  Duberley  or  Dr.  Pangloss  for  himself,  and 
very  earnestly  but  very  unsuccessfully  trying  to 
persuade  the  others  that  there  were  some  fine  tragic 
parts  in  the  rest  of  the  dramatis  personce. 

The  pause  which  followed  this  fruitless  effoi't 
was  ended  by  the  same  speaker,  who,  taking  up  one 
of  the  many  volumes  of  plays  that  lay  on  the  table, 
and  turning  it  over,  suddenly  exclaimed:  Lov- 
ers' Vows!  And  why  should  not  Lovers'  Vows  do 
for  us  as  well  as  for  the  Kavenshaws?  How  came 
it  never  to  be  thought  of  before?  It  strikes  me 
as  if  it  would  do  exactly.  What  say  you  all?  Here 
are  two  capital  tragic  parts  for  Yates  and  Crawford, 
and  here  is  the  rhyming  Butler  for  me,  —  if  nobody 
else  wants  it,  —  a  trifling  part,  but  the  sort  of  thing 
I  should  not  dislike,  and,  as  I  said  before,  I  am 
determined  to  take  anj^hing  and  do  my  best.  And 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


175 


as  for  the  rest,  they  may  be  filled  up  by  anybody. 
It  is  only  Count  Cassel  and  Anhalt.'' 

The  suggestion  was  generally  welcome.  Every- 
body was  growing  weary  of  indecision;  and  the 
first  idea  with  everybody  w^as  that  nothing  had 
been  proposed  before  so  likely  to  suit  them  all. 
Mr.  Yates  was  particularly  pleased:  he  had  been 
sighing  and  longing  to  do  the  Baron  at  Ecclesford, 
had  grudged  every  rant  of  Lord  Eavenshaw's,  and 
been  forced  to  re-rant  it  all  in  his  own  room.  The 
storm  through  Baron  Wildenhaim  was  the  height 
of  his  theatrical  ambition;  and  with  the  advantage 
of  knowing  half  the  scenes  by  heart  already,  he 
did  now  with  the  greatest  alacrity  offer  his  ser- 
vices for  the  part.  To  do  him  justice,  however,  he 
did  not  resolve  to  appropriate  it;  for  remember- 
ing  that  there  was  some  very  good  ranting  ground 
in  Frederick,  he  professed  an  equal  willingness 
for  that.  Henry  Crawford  was  ready  to  take 
either.  Whichever  Mr.  Yates  did  not  choose 
would  perfectly  satisfy  him,  and  a  short  parley  of 
compliment  ensued.  Miss  Bertram,  feeling  all 
the  interest  of  an  Agatha  in  the  question,  took  on 
her  to  decide  it,  by  observing  to  Mr.  Yates  that 
this  was  a  point  in  which  height  and  figure  ought 
to  be  considered,  and  that  his  being  the  tallest 
seemed  to  fit  him  peculiarly  for  the  Baron.  She 
was  acknowledged  to  be  quite  right;  and  the  two 
parts  being  accepted  accordingly,  she  was  certain 
of  the  proper  Frederick.  Three  of  the  characters 
were  now  cast,  besides  Mr.  Eushworth,  who  was 
always  answered  for  by  Maria  as  willing  to  do 
anything;  when  Julia,  meaning,  like  her  sister. 


176  MANSFIELD  PARK. 

to  be  Agatlia,  began  to  be  scrupulous  on  Miss 
Crawford's  account. 

^^This  is  not  behaving  well  by  the  absent," 
said  she.  Here  are  not  women  enough.  Amelia 
and  Agatha  may  do  for  Maria  and  me;  but  there 
is  nothing  for  your  sister,  Mr.  Crawford.'' 

Mr.  Crawford  desired  that  might  not  be  thought 
of:  he  was  very  sure  his  sister  had  no  wish  of  act- 
ing, but  as  she  might  be  useful,  and  that  she 
would  not  allow  herself  to  be  considered  in  the 
present  case.  But  this  was  immediately  opposed 
by  Tom  Bertram,  who  asserted  the  part  of  Amelia 
to  be  in  every  respect  the  property  of  Miss  Craw- 
ford, if  she  would  accept  it.  ^^It  falls  as  natu- 
rally as  necessarily  to  her,''  said  he,  ^^as  Agatha 
does  to  one  or  other  of  my  sisters.  It  can  be  no 
sacrifice  on  their  side,  for  it  is  highly  comic," 

A  short  silence  followed.  Each  sister  looked 
anxious;  for  each  felt  the  best  claim  to  Agatha, 
and  was  hoping  to  have  it  pressed  on  her  by  the 
rest.  Henry  Crawford,  w^ho  meanwhile  had  taken 
up  the  play,  and  with  seeming  carelessness  was 
turning  over  the  first  act,  soon  settled  the  business. 

"  I  must  entreat  Miss  Julia  Bertram,"  said  he, 
^^not  to  engage  in  the  part  of  Agatha,  or  it  will  be 
the  ruin  of  all  my  solemnity.  You  must  not,  in- 
deed you  must  not,"  turning  to  her.  ^^I  could 
not  stand  your  countenance  dressed  up  in  woe 
and  paleness.  The  many  laughs  we  have  had  to- 
gether would  infallibly  come  across  me,  and  Fred- 
erick and  his  knapsack  would  be  obliged  to  run 
away." 

Pleasantly,  courteously  it  was  spoken;  but  the 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


177 


manner  was  lost  in  tlie  matter  to  Julia's  feelings. 
She  saw  a  glance  at  Maria,  which  confirmed  the 
injury  to  herself:  it  was  a  scheme,  a  trick;  she 
was  slighted,  Maria  was  preferred;  the  smile  of  tri- 
umph which  Maria  was  trying  to  suppress  showed 
how  well  it  was  understood;  and  before  Julia 
could  command  herself  enough  to  speak,  her 
brother  gave  his  weight  against  her  too,  by  say- 
ing: Oh,  yes,  Maria  must  be  Agatha.  Maria 
will  be  the  best  Agatha.  Though  Julia  fancies 
she  prefers  tragedy,  I  would  not  trust  her  in  it. 
There  is  nothing  of  tragedy  about  her.  She  has 
not  the  look  of  it.  Her  features  are  not  tragic 
features,  and  she  walks  too  quick,  and  speaks  too 
quick,  and  would  not  keep  her  countenance.  She 
had  better  do  the  old  countrywoman,  —  the  Cot- 
tager's wife;  you  had,  indeed,  Julia.  Cottager's 
wife  is  a  very  pretty  part,  I  assure  you.  The  old 
lady  relieves  the  high-flown  benevolence  of  her 
husband  with  a  good  deal  of  spirit.  You  shall  be 
Cottager's  wife.'^ 

Cottager's  wife!  "  cried  Mr.  Yates.  ^^What 
are  you  talking  of?  The  most  trivial,  paltry,  in- 
significant part;  the  merest  commonplace,  — not  a 
tolerable  speech  in  the  whole.  Your  sister  do 
that!  It  is  an  insult  to  propose  it.  At  Eccles- 
ford  the  governess  was  to  have  done  it.  We  all 
agreed  that  it  could  not  be  offered  to  anybody  else. 
A  little  more  justice,  Mr.  Manager,  if  you  please. 
You  do  not  deserve  the  office,  if  you  cannot  appre- 
ciate the  talents  of  your  company  a  little  better." 

"  Why,  as  to  that,  my  good  friend,  till  I  and  my 
company  have  really  acted;  there  must  be  some 

VOL.  I. — 12 


178 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


guesswork;  but  I  mean  no  disparagement  to  Julia. 
We  cannot  liave  two  Agathas,  and  we  must  have 
one  Cottager's  wife;  and  I  am  sure  I  set  her  the 
example  of  moderation  myself  in  being  satisfied 
with  the  old  Butler.  If  the  part  is  trifling,  she 
will  have  more  credit  in  making  something  of  it ; 
and  if  she  is  so  desperately  bent  against  every- 
thing humorous,  let  her  take  Cottager's  speeches 
Instead  of  Cottager's  wife's,  and  so  change  the 
parts  all  through;  he  is  solemn  and  pathetic 
enough,  I  am  sure.  It  could  make  no  difference 
in  the  play;  and  as  for  Cottager  himself,  when  he 
has  got  his  wife's  speeches,  I  would  undertake  him 
with  all  my  heart. '^ 

With  all  your  partiality  for  Cottager's  wife,'' 
said  Henry  Crawford,  it  will  be  impossible  to 
make  anything  of  it  fit  for  your  sister,  and  we 
must  not  suffer  her  good-nature  to  be  imposed  on. 
We  must  not  allow  her  to  accept  the  part.  She 
must  not  be  left  to  her  own  complaisance.  Her 
talents  will  be  wanted  in  Amelia.  Amelia  is  a 
character  more  difficult  to  be  well  represented  than 
even  Agatha.  I  consider  Amelia  as  the  most  diffi- 
cult character  in  the  whole  piece.  It  requires 
great  powers,  great  nicety,  to  give  her  playfulness 
and  simplicity  without  extravagance.  I  have  seen 
good  actresses  fail  in  the  part.  Simplicity,  in- 
deed, is  beyond  the  reach  of  almost  every  actress 
by  profession.  It  requires  a  delicacy  of  feeling 
which  they  have  not.  It  requires  a  gentlewoman, 
—  a  Julia  Bertram.  You  will  undertake  it,  I 
hope?  "  turning  to  her  with  a  look  of  anxious  en- 
treaty, which  softened  her  a  little;  but  while  she 


MANSFIELD  PARK 


179 


hesitated  what  to  say,  her  "brother  again  inter- 
posed with  Miss  Crawford's  better  claim. 

*^N"o,  no,  Julia  must  not  be  Amelia.  It  is  not 
at  all  the  part  for  her.  She  would  not  like  it. 
She  would  not  do  well.  She  is  too  tall  and  robust. 
Amelia  should  be  a  small,  light,  girlish,  shipping 
figure.  It  is  fit  for  Miss  Crawford,  and  Miss 
Crawford  only.  She  looks  the  part,  and  I  am  per- 
suaded will  do  it  admirably. '' 

Without  attending  to  this,  Henry  Crawford  con- 
tinued his  supplication.  You  must  oblige  us,^' 
said  he;  indeed  you  must.  When  you  have 
studied  the  character,  I  am  sure  you  will  feel  it 
suit  you.  Tragedy  may  be  your  choice,  but  it  will 
certainly  appear  that  comedy  chooses  you.  You 
will  be  to  visit  me  in  prison  with  a  basket  of  pro- 
visions; you  will  not  refuse  to  visit  me  in  prison? 
I  think  I  see  you  coming  in  with  your  basket. 

The  influence  of  his  voice  was  felt.  Julia  wa- 
vered; but  was  he  only  trying  to  soothe  and  pacify 
her,  and  make  her  overlook  the  previous  affront? 
She  distrusted  him.  The  slight  had  been  most  de- 
termined. He  was,  perhaps,  but  at  treacherous 
play  with  her.  She  looked  suspiciously  at  her 
sister.  Maria's  countenance  was  to  decide  it;  if 
she  were  vexed  and  alarmed  —  but  Maria  looked 
all  serenity  and  satisfaction,  and  Julia  well  knew 
that  on  this  ground  Maria  could  not  be  happy  but 
at  her  expense.  With  hasty  indignation,  there- 
fore, and  a  tremulous  voice,  she  said  to  him:  You 
do  not  seem  afraid  of  not  keeping  your  counte- 
nance when  I  come  in  with  a  basket  of  provisions 
—  though  one  might  have  supposed  —  but  it  is 


180 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


only  as  Agatlia  that  I  was  to  be  so  overpowering! 
She   stopped.     Henry   Crawford    looked  rathei 
foolish,  and  as  if  he  did  not  know  what  to  say. 
Tom  Bertram  began  again,  — 

^^Miss  Crawford  must  be  Amelia.  She  will  be 
an  excellent  Amelia.'^ 

Do  not  be  afraid  of  my  wanting  the  character, 
cried  Julia,  with  angry  quickness.  ^^I  am  not  to 
be  Agatha,  and  I  am  sure  I  will  do  nothing  else: 
and  as  to  Amelia,  it  is  of  all  parts  in  the  world  the 
most  disgusting  to  me.  I  quite  detest  her.  An 
odious,  little,  pert,  unnatural,  impudent  girl.  I 
have  always  protested  against  comedy,  and  this  is 
comedy  in  its  worst  form.'^  And  so  saying  she 
walked  hastily  out  of  the  room,  leaving  awkward 
feelings  to  more  than  one,  but  exciting  small  com- 
passion in  any  except  Fanny,  who  had  been  a 
quiet  auditor  of  the  whole,  and  who  could  not 
think  of  her  as  under  the  agitations  of  jealousy 
without  great  pity. 

A  short  silence  succeeded  her  leaving  them;  but 
her  brother  soon  returned  to  business  and  Lovers' 
Vows,  and  was  eagerly  looking  over  the  play, 
with  Mr.  Yates's  help,  to  ascertain  what  scenery 
would  be  necessary,  —  while  Maria  and  Henry 
Crawford  conversed  together  in  an  under  voice; 
and  the  declaration  with  which  she  began  of,  ^^I 
am  sure  I  would  give  up  the  part  to  Julia  most 
willingly,  but  that  though  I  shall  probably  do  it 
very  ill,  I  feel  persuaded  she  would  do  it  worse,'' 
was  doubtless  receiving  all  the  compliments  it 
called  for. 

When  this  had  lasted  some  time,  the  division 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


181 


of  the  party  was  completed  hy  Tom  Bertram  and 
Mr.  Yates  walking  off  together  to  consult  further 
in  the  room  now  beginning  to  be  called  the 
Theatre,  and  Miss  Bertram's  resolving  to  go 
down  to  the  Parsonage  herself  with  the  offer  of 
Amelia  to  Miss  Crawford;  and  Fanny  remained 
alone. 

The  first  use  she  made  of  her  solitude  was  to 
take  up  the  volume  which  had  been  left  on  the 
table,  and  begin  to  acquaint  herself  with  the  play 
of  which  she  had  heard  so  much.  Her  curiosity 
was  all  awake,  and  she  ran  through  it  with  an 
eagerness  which  was  suspended  only  by  intervals 
of  astonishment  that  it  could  be  chosen  in  the 
present  instance,  —  that  it  could  be  proposed  and 
accepted  in  a  private  theatre!  Agatha  and  Amelia 
appeared  to  her  in  their  different  ways  so  totally 
improper  for  home  representation  —  the  situation 
of  one,  and  the  language  of  the  other,  so  unfit  to 
be  expressed  by  any  woman  of  modesty  —  that  she 
could  hardly  suppose  her  cousins  could  be  aware 
of  what  they  were  engaging  in,  and  longed  to 
have  them  roused  as  soon  as  possible  by  the 
remonstrance  which  Edmund  would  certainly 
make. 


CHAPTEE  XV. 


Miss  Crawford  accepted  the  part  very  readily; 
and  soon  after  Miss  Bertram's  return  from  the 
Parsonage,  Mr.  Eushworth  arrived,  and  another 
character  was  consequently  cast.  He  had  the  offer 
of  Count  Cassel  and  Anhalt,  and  at  first  did  not 
know  which  to  choose,  and  wanted  Miss  Bertram 
to  direct  him;  but  upon  being  made  to  understand 
the  different  style  of  the  characters,  and  which 
was  which,  and  recollecting  that  he  had  once  seen 
the  play  in  London,  and  had  thought  Anhalt  a 
very  stupid  fellow,  he  soon  decided  for  the  Count. 
Miss  Bertram  approved  the  decision,  for  the  less 
he  had  to  learn  the  better;  and  though  she  could 
not  sympathize  in  his  wish  that  the  Count  and 
Agatha  might  be  to  act  together,  nor  wait  very 
patiently  while  he  was  slowly  turning  over  the 
leaves  with  the  hope  of  still  discovering  such  a 
scene,  she  very  kindly  took  his  part  in  hand,  and 
curtailed  every  speech  that  admitted  being  short- 
ened; besides  pointing  out  the  necessity  of  his 
being  very  much  dressed,  and  choosing  his  colors. 
Mr.  Rushworth  liked  the  idea  of  his  finery  very 
well,  though  affecting  to  despise  it;  and  was  too 
much  engaged  with  what  his  own  appearance 
would  be  to  think  of  the  others,  or  draw  any  of 
those  conclusions  or  feel  any  of  that  displeasure 
which  Maria  had  been  half  prepared  for. 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


183 


Tlius  mucli  was  settled  before  Edmund,  wlio  had 
been  out  all  tlie  morning,  knew  anything  of  the 
matter;  but  when  he  entered  the  drawing-room 
before  dinner,  the  buzz  of  discussion  was  high 
between  Tom,  Maria,  and  Mr.  Yates;  and  Mr. 
Eushworth  stepped  forward  with  great  alacrity  to 
tell  him  the  agreeable  news. 

We  have  got  a  play,''  said  he.  ^^It  is  to  be 
Lovers'  Voavs;  and  I  am  to  be  Count  Cassel,  and 
am  to  come  in  first  with  a  blue  dress  and  a  pink 
satin  cloak,  and  afterwards  am  to  have  another  fine 
fancy  suit  by  way  of  a  shooting-dress.  I  do  not 
know  how  I  shall  like  it." 

Fanny's  eyes  followed  Edmund,  and  her  heart 
beat  for  him  as  she  heard  this  speech,  and  saw  his 
look,  and  felt  what  his  sensations  must  be. 

Lovers'  Vows!"  in  a  tone  of  the  greatest 
amazement,  was  his  only  reply  to  Mr.  Eushworth; 
and  he  turned  towards  his  brother  and  sisters  as 
if  hardly  doubting  a  contradiction. 

^^Yes, "  cried  Mr.  Yates.  After  all  our  de- 
batings  and  difficulties,  we  find  there  is  nothing 
that  will  suit  us  altogether  so  well,  nothing  so 
unexceptionable,  as  Lovers'  Vows.  The  wonder 
is  that  it  should  not  have  been  thought  of  before. 
My  stupidity  was  abominable,  for  here  we  have 
all  the  advantage  of  what  I  saw  at  Ecclesford;  and 
it  is  so  useful  to  have  anything  of  a  model!  We 
have  cast  almost  every  part." 

^^But  what  do  you  do  for  women?"  said  Ed- 
mund, gravely,  and  looking  at  Maria. 

Maria  blushed  in  spite  of  herself  as  she  an- 
swered;  ^'1  take  the  part  which  Lady  Ravenshaw 


184 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


was  to  have  done;  and,"  with  a  bolder  eye,  ^'  Miss 
Crawford  is  to  be  Amelia/' 

^^I  should  not  have  thought  it  the  sort  of  play 
to  be  so  easily  filled  up  with  us,"  replied  Edmund, 
turning  away  to  the  -fire,  where  sat  his  mother, 
aunt,  and  Fanny,  and  seating  himself  with  a  look 
of  great  vexation. 

Mr.  Eush worth  followed  him  to  say:  ^^I  come 
in  three  times,  and  have  two-and-forty  speeches. 
That 's  something,  is  not  it  ?  But  I  do  not  much 
like  the  idea  of  being  so  fine.  I  shall  hardly 
know  myself  in  a  blue  dress  and  a  pink. satin 
cloak.'' 

Edmund  could  not  answer  him.  In  a  few  min- 
utes Mr.  Bertram  was  called  out  of  the  room  to 
satisfy  some  doubts  of  the  carpenter;  and  being 
accompanied  by  Mr.  Yates,  and  followed  soon 
afterwards  by  Mr.  Rush  worth,  Edmund  almost 
immediately  took  the  opportunity  of  saying:  ^^I 
cannot  before  Mr.  Yates  speak  what  I  feel  as  to 
this  play,  without  reflecting  on  his  friends  at 
Ecclesford;  but  I  must  now,  my  dear  Maria,  tell 
you  that  I  think  it  exceedingly  unfit  for  private 
representation,  and  that  I  hope  you  will  give  it 
up.  I  cannot  but  suppose  you  will  when  you  have 
read  it  carefully  over.  Read  only  the  first  act 
aloud  to  either  your  mother  or  aunt,  and  see  how 
you  can  approve  it.  It  will  not  be  necessary 
to  send  you  to  your  father's  judgment,  I  am 
convinced." 

We  see  things  very  differently,"  cried  Maria. 

I  am  perfectl}^  acquainted  with  the  play,  I  assure 
you;  and  with  a  very  few  omissions,  and  so  forth. 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


185 


which  will  be  made  of  course,  I  can  see  nothing 
objectionable  in  it;  and  I  am  not  the  only  young 
woman  you  find  who  thinks  it  very  fit  for  private 
representation/' 

^^I  am  sorry  for  it/'  was  his  answer;  ^^but  in 
this  matter  it  is  you  who  are  to  lead.  You  must 
set  the  example.  If  others  have  blundered,  it  is 
your  place  to  put  them  right,  and  show  them  what 
true  delicacy  is.  In  all  points  of  decorum,  your 
conduct  must  be  law  to  the  rest  of  the  party.'' 

This  picture  of  her  consequence  had  some  effect, 
for  no  one  loved  better  to  lead  than  Maria;  and 
with  far  more  good-humor  she  answered :  ^  ^  I  am 
much  obliged  to  you,  Edmund;  you  mean  very 
well,  I  am  sure:  but  I  still  think  you  see  things 
too  strongly;  and  I  really  cannot  undertake  to 
harangue  all  the  rest  upon  a  subject  of  this 
kind.  There  would  be  the  greatest  indecorum,  I 
think." 

^^Do  you  imagine  that  I  could  have  such  an 
idea  in  my  head?  No;  let  your  conduct  be  the 
only  harangue.  Say  that,  on  examining  the  part, 
you  feel  yourself  unequal  to  it;  that  you  find  it 
requiring  more  exertion  and  confidence  than  you 
can  be  supposed  to  have.  Say  this  with  firmness, 
and  it  will  be  quite  enough.  All  who  can  distin- 
guish will  understand  your  motive.  The  play 
will  be  given  up,  and  your  delicacy  honored  as  it 
ought." 

^^Do  not  act  anything  improper,  my  dear,"  said 
Lady  Bertram;  ^^Sir  Thomas  would  not  like  it. 
Fanny,  ring  the  bell;  I  must  have  my  dinner. 
To  be  sure,  Julia  is  dressed  by  this  time." 


186 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


^^I  am  convinced,  madam, said  Edmund,  pre- 
venting Fanny,  ^Hhat  Sir  Thomas  would  not 
like 

There,  my  dear,  do  you  hear  what  Edmund 
says?'' 

If  I  were  to  decline  the  part,"  said  Maria, 
with  renewed  zeal,  Julia  would  certainly  take 
it.'' 

^^What!  "  cried  Edmund,  ^^if  she  knew  your 
reasons?  " 

^^Oh,  she  might  think  the  difference  between 
us,  —  the  difference  in  our  situations,  —  that  she 
need  not  be  so  scrupulous  as  I  might  feel  necessary. 
I  am  sure  she  wwild  argue  so.  No;  you  must 
excuse  me.  I  cannot  retract  my  consent;  it  is  too 
far  settled,  everybody  would  be  so  disappointed, 
Tom  would  be  quite  angry;  and  if  we  are  so  very 
nice,  we  shall  never  act  anything." 

^^I  was  just  going  to  say  the  very  same  thing," 
said  Mrs.  Norris.  ^^If  every  play  is  to  be  ob- 
jected to,  you  will  act  nothing,  and  the  prepara- 
tions will  be  all  so  much  money  thrown  away, 
and  I  am  sure  that  would  be  a  discredit  to  us  all. 
I  do  not  know  the  play;  but,  as  Maria  says,  if 
there  is  anything  a  little  too  warm  (and  it  is  so 
with  most  of  them),  it  can  be  easily  left  out.  We 
must  not  be  over-precise,  Edmund.  As  Mr. 
Rushworth  is  to  act  too,  there  can  be  no  harm. 
I  only  wish  Tom  had  known  his  own  mind  when 
the  carpenters  began,  for  there  was  the  loss  of 
half  a  day's  w^ork  about  those  side-doors.  The 
curtain  will  be  a  good  job,  however.  The  maids 
do  their  work  very  well,  and  I  think  we  shall  be 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


187 


able  to  send  back  some  dozens  of  the  rings. 
There  is  no  occasion  to  put  them  so  very  close  to- 
gether. I  am  of  some  use,  I  hope,  in  preventing 
waste  and  making  the  most  of  things.  There 
should  always  be  one  steady  head  to  superintend 
so  many  young  ones.  I  forgot  to  tell  Tom  of 
something  that  happened  to  me  this  very  day.  I 
had  been  looking  about  me  in  the  poultry-yard, 
and  was  just  coming  out,  when  who  should  I  see 
but  Dick  Jackson  making  up  to  the  servants'  hall 
door  with  two  bits  of  deal  board  in  his  hand, 
bringing  them  to  father,  you  may  be  sure;  mother 
had  chanced  to  send  him  of  a  message  to  father, 
and  then  father  had  bid  him  bring  up  them  two 
bits  of  board,  for  he  could  not  nohow  do  without 
them.  I  knew  what  all  this  meant,  for  the  ser- 
vants' dinner-bell  was  ringing  at  the  very  moment 
over  our  heads;  and  as  I  hate  such  encroaching 
people  (the  Jacksons  are  very  encroaching,  I  have 
always  said  so,  — just  the  sort  of  people  to  get  all 
they  can),  I  said  to  the  boy  directly  (a  great  lub- 
berly fellow  of  ten  years  old,  you  know,  who  ought 
to  be  ashamed  of  himself),  ^  I  '11  take  the  boards 
to  your  father,  Dick;  so  get  you  home  again  as 
fast  as  you  can.'  The  boy  looked  very  silly,  and 
turned  away  without  offering  a  word,  for  I  believe 
I  might  speak  pretty  sharp;  and  I  dare  say  it  will 
cure  him  of  coming  marauding  about  the  house 
for  one  while.  I  hate  such  greediness,  —  so  good 
as  your  father  is  to  the  family,  employing  the 
man  all  the  year  round!  " 

Nobody  was  at  the  trouble  of  an  answer.  The 
others  soon  returned;  and  Edmund  found  that  to 


188 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


have  endeavored  to  set  them  right  must  be  his 
only  satisfaction. 

Dinner  passed  heavily.  Mrs.  Norris  related 
again  her  triumph  over  Dick  Jackson;  but  neither 
play  nor  preparation  was  otherwise  much  talked 
of,  for  Edmund's  disapprobation  was  felt  even  by 
his  brother,  though  he  would  not  have  owned  it. 
Maria,  wanting  Henry  Crawford's  animating  sup- 
port, thought  the  subject  better  avoided.  Mr. 
Yates,  who  was  trying  to  make  himself  agreeable 
to  Julia,  found  her  gloom  less  impenetrable  on 
any  topic  than  that  of  his  regret  at  her  secession 
from  their  company;  and  Mr.  Rush  worth,  having 
only  his  own  part  and  his  own  dress  in  his  head,  had 
soon  talked  away  all  that  could  be  said  of  either. 

But  the  concerns  of  the  theatre  were  suspended 
only  for  an  hour  or  two :  there  was  still  a  great 
deal  to  be  settled;  and  the  spirits  of  evening  giv- 
ing fresh  courage,  Tom,  Maria,  and  Mr.  Yates, 
soon  after  their  being  re-assembled  in  the  drav/- 
ing-room,  seated  themselves  in  committee  at  a  sep- 
arate table,  w^ith  the  play  open  before  them,  and 
were  just  getting  deep  in  the  subject,  when  a  most 
welcome  interruption  was  given  by  the  entrance 
of  Mr.  and  Miss  Crawford,  who,  late  and  dark 
and  dirty  as  it  was,  could  not  help  coming,  and 
w^ere  received  with  the  most  grateful  joy. 

^^Well,  how  do  you  goon?''  and  ^^What  have 
you  settled?"  and  Oh,  we  can  do  nothing  with- 
out you,"  followed  the  first  salutations;  and 
Henry  Crawford  was  soon  seated  with  the  other 
three  at  the  table,  while  his  sister  made  her  way 
to   Lady  Bertram,  and  with  pleasant  attention 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


189 


was  complimenting  her.  ^^I  must  really  congratu* 
late  your  Ladyship/'  said  she,  ^^on  the  play  be- 
ing chosen;  for  though  you  have  borne  it  with 
exemplary  patience,  I  am  sure  you  must  be  sick 
of  all  our  noise  and  difficulties.  The  actors  may 
be  glad,  but  the  bystanders  must  be  infinitely 
more  thankful  for  a  decision;  and  I  do  sincerely 
give  you  joy,  madam,  as  well  as  Mrs.  Norris,  and 
everybody  else  who  is  in  the  same  predicament," 
glancing  half  fearfully,  half  slyly,  beyond  Fanny 
to  Edmund. 

She  was  very  civilly  answered  by  Lady  Bertram, 
but  Edmund  said  nothing.  His  being  only  a  by- 
stander was  not  disclaimed.  After  continuing  in 
chat  with  the  party  round  the  fire  a  few  minutes, 
Miss  Crawford  returned  to  the  party  round  the 
table;  and  standing  by  them,  seemed  to  interest 
herself  in  their  arrangements  till,  as  if  struck  by 
a  sudden  recollection,  she  exclaimed:  ^^My  good 
friends,  you  are  most  composedly  at  work  upon 
these  cottages  and  alehouses,  inside  and  out;  but 
pray  let  me  know  my  fate  in  the  mean  while.  Who 
is  to  be  Anhalt?  What  gentleman  among  you  am 
I  to  have  the  pleasure  of  making  love  to?  " 

Eor  a  moment  no  one  spoke ;  and  then  many  spoke 
together  to  tell  the  same  melancholy  truth,  —  that 
they  had  not  yet  got  any  Anhalt.  ^^Mr.  Eush- 
worth  was  to  be  Count  Cassel,  but  no  one  had  yet 
undertaken  Anhalt. 

^^I  had  my  choice  of  the  parts,''  said  Mr.  Kush- 
worth;  ^^but  I  thought  I  should  like  the  Count 
best,  —  though  I  do  not  much  relish  the  finery  I 
am  to  have." 


190 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


^^You  cliose  very  wisely,  I  am  sure/'  replied 
Miss  Crawford,  with  a  brightened  look  5  ^^Anhalt 
is  a  heavy  part." 

^^The  Count  has  two-and-forty  speeches,''  re- 
turned Mr.  Eushworth,      which  is  no  trifle." 

^^I  am  not  at  all  surprised,"  said  Miss  Craw- 
ford, after  a  short  pause,  ^^at  this  want  of  an  An- 
halt.  Amelia  deserves  no  better.  Such  a  forward 
young  lady  may  well  frighten  the  men." 

^^I  should  be  but  too  happy  in  taking  the  part, 
if  it  were  possible,"  cried  Tom;  ^^but  unluckily 
the  Butler  and  Anhalt  are  in  together.  I  will  not 
entirely  give  it  up,  however,  —  I  will  try  what  can 
be  done,  — I  will  look  it  over  again." 

Your  brother  should  take  the  part,"  said  Mr. 
Yates,  in  a  low  voice.  ^'Do  not  you  think  he 
would  ?  " 

shall  not  ask  him,"  replied  Tom,  in  a  cold, 
determined  manner. 

Miss  Crawford  talked  of  something  else,  and 
soon  afterwards  rejoined  the  party  at  the  fire. 

They  do  not  want  me  at  all,"  said  she,  seating 
herself.  ^^I  only  puzzle  them,  and  oblige  them  to 
make  civil  speeches.  Mr.  Edmund  Bertram,  as 
you  do  not  act  yourself,  you  will  be  a  disinterested 
adviser;  and  therefore  I  apply  to  you.  What 
shall  we  do  for  an  Anhalt  ?  Is  it  practicable  for 
any  of  the  others  to  double  it?  What  is  your 
advice  ?  " 

'^My  advice,"  said  he,  calmly,  ^^is  that  you 
change  the  play." 

"  I  should  have  no  objection,"  she  replied;  ^^for 
though  I  should  not  particularly  dislike  the  part  of 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


191 


Amelia  if  well  supported,  —  that  is,  if  everything 
went  well,  —  I  shall  be  sorry  to  be  an  inconven- 
ience; but  as  they  do  not  choose  to  hear  your  ad- 
vice at  that  table/'  looking  round,  ^^it  certainly 
will  not  be  taken." 

Edmund  said  no  more. 
If  any  part  could  tempt  you  to  act,  I  suppose  it 
would  be  Anhalt, "  observed  the  lady,  archly,  after 
a  short  pause;     for  he  is  a  clergyman,  you  know.'' 

^^That  circumstance  would  by  no  means  tempt 
me,''  he  replied,  ^^for  I  should  be  sorry  to  make 
the  character  ridiculous  by  bad  acting.  It  must 
be  very  difficult  to  keep  Anhalt  from  appearing  a 
formal,  solemn  lecturer;  and  the  man  who  chooses 
the  profession  itself  is  perhaps  one  of  the  last  who 
would  wish  to  represent  it  on  the  stage." 

Miss  Crawford  was  silenced,  and  with  some  feel- 
ings of  resentment  and  mortification,  moved  her 
chair  considerably  nearer  the  tea-table,  and  gave 
all  her  attention  to  Mrs.  ISTorris,  who  was  presiding 
there. 

Fanny,"  cried  Tom  Bertram,  from  the  other 
table,  where  the  conference  was  eagerly  carrying 
on,  and  the  conversation  incessant,  ' '  we  want 
your  services." 

Eanny  was  up  in  a  moment,  expecting  some 
errand;  for  the  habit  of  employing  her  in  that  way 
was  not  yet  overcome,  in  spite  of  all  that  Edmund 
could  do. 

we  do  not  want  to  disturb  you  from  your 
seat.  We  do  not  want  your  present  services.  We 
shall  only  want  you  in  our  play.  You  must  be 
Cottager's  wife." 


192 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


^^Me!  "  cried  Fanny,  sitting  down  again  with  a 
most  frightened  look.  Indeed  you  must  excuse 
me.  I  could  not  act  anything  if  you  were  to  give 
me  the  world.    ISTo,  indeed,  I  cannot  act.'' 

Indeed,  but  you  must,  for  we  cannot  excuse 
you.  It  need  not  frighten  you;  it  a  nothing  of 
a  part,  a  mere  nothing,  not  ^bove  half-a-dozen 
speeches  altogether,  and  it  will  not  much  signify 
if  nobody  hears  a  word  you  say;  so  you  may  be  as 
creepmouse  as  you  like,  but  we  must  have  you  to 
look  at." 

' '  If  you  are  afraid  of  half-a-dozen  speeches, ' ' 
cried  Mr.  Eushworth,  ^^what  would  you  do  with 
such  a  part  as  mine  ?    I  have  forty-two  to  learn.'' 

It  is  not  that  I  am  afraid  of  learning  by  heart," 
said  Fanny,  shocked  to  find  herself  at  that  moment 
the  only  speaker  in  the  room,  and  to  feel  that  al- 
most every  eye  was  upon  her ;  ' '  but  I  really  can- 
not act." 

^^Yes,  yes,  you  can  act  well  enough  for  us. 
Learn  your  part,  and  we  will  teach  you  all  the 
rest.  You  have  only  two  scenes,  and  as  I  shall  be 
Cottager,  I  '11  put  you  in  and  push  you  about;  and 
you  will  do  it  very  well,  I  '11  answer  for  it." 

'^^0,  indeed,  Mr.  Bertram,  you  must  excuse 
me.  You  cannot  have  an  idea.  It  wwld  be  ab- 
solutely impossible  for  me.  If  I  were  to  undertake 
it,  I  should  only  disappoint  you." 

^^Phoo!  Phoo!  Do  not  be  so  shamefaced. 
You  '11  do  it  very  well.  Every  allov/ance  will  be 
made  for  you.  We  do  not  expect  perfection.  You 
must  get  a  brown  gown  and  a  white  apron  and  a 
mob  cap,  and  we  must  make  you  a  few  wrinkles, 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


193 


and  a  little  of  the  crowsfoot  at  the  corner  of  your 
eyes,  and  you  will  be  a  very  proper  little  old 
woman/ ^ 

You  must  excuse  me,  indeed  you  must  excuse 
me,"  cried  Fanny,  growing  more  and  more  red 
from  excessive  agitation,  and  looking  distressfully 
at  Edmund,  who  was  kindly  observing  her;  but 
unwilling  to  exasperate  his  brother  by  interference, 
gave  her  only  an  encouraging  smile.  Her  entreaty 
had  no  effect  on  Tom:  he  only  said  again  what 
he  had  said  before ;  and  it  was  not  merely  Tom,  for 
the  requisition  was  now  backed  by  Maria  and  Mr. 
Crawford  and  Mr.  Yates,  with  an  urgency  which 
differed  from  his  but  in  being  more  gentle  or  more 
ceremonious,  and  which  altogether  was  quite  over- 
powering to  Fanny;  and  before  she  could  breathe 
after  it^  Mrs.  Norris  completed  the  whole,  by  thus 
addressing  her  in  a  whisper  at  once  angry  and 
audible:  ^^What  a  piece  of  work  here  is  about 
nothing,  — I  am  quite  ashamed  of  you,  Fanny,  to 
make  such  a  difficulty  of  obliging  your  cousins  in 
a  trifle  of  this  sort,  —  so  kind  as  they  are  to  you ! 
Take  the  part  with  a  good  grace,  and  let  us  hear 
no  more  of  the  matter,  I  entreat.^' 

"  Do  not  urge  her,  madam,"  said  Edmund.  '^It 
is  not  fair  to  urge  her  in  this  manner.  You  see 
she  does  not  like  to  act.  Let  her  choose  for  her- 
self as  well  as  the  rest  of  us.  Her  judgment  may 
be  quite  as  safely  trusted.  Do  not  urge  her  any 
more.'' 

^^I  am  not  going  to  urge  her/'  replied  Mrs. 
Norris,  sharply;  ^^but  I  shall  think  her  a  very 
obstinate,  ungrateful  girl,  if  she  does  not  do  what 

VOL.  I.  — 13 


194 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


her  aunt  and  cousins  wish  her,  —  very  ungrateful, 
indeed,  considering  who  and  what  she  is." 

Edmund  was  too  angry  to  speak ;  hut  Miss  Craw- 
ford, looking  for  a  moment  with  astonished  eyes  at 
Mrs.  Korris,  and  then  at  Fanny,  whose  tears  were 
heginning  to  show  themselves,  immediately  said, 
with  some  keenness:  ^^I  do  not  like  my  situation; 
this  place  is  too  hot  for  me,''  and  moved  away 
her  chair  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  table,  close  to 
Tanny,  saying  to  her,  in  a  kind,  low  whisper,  as 
she  placed  herself,  Never  mind,  my  dear  Miss 
Price;  this  is  a  cross  evening,  —  everybody  is 
cross  and  teasing,  — but  do  not  let  us  mind  them; '' 
and  with  pointed  attention  continued  to  talk  to  her 
and  endeavor  to  raise  her  spirits,  in  spite  of  being 
out  of  spirits  herself.  By  a  look  at  her  brother  she 
prevented  any  further  entreaty  from  the  theatrical 
board,  and  the  re?Jly  good  feelings  by  which  she 
was  almost  purely  governed  were  rapidly  restoring 
her  to  all  the  little  she  had  lost  in  Edmund's 
favor. 

Fanny  did  not  love  Miss  Crawford:  but  she  felt 
very  much  obliged  to  her  for  her  present  kind- 
ness; and  when  from  taking  notice  of  her  work, 
and  wishing  she  could  work  as  well,  and  begging 
for  the  pattern,  and  supposing  Fanny  was  now  pre- 
paring for  her  appearance,  as  of  course  she  would 
come  out  when  her  cousin  was  married,  Miss  Craw- 
ford proceeded  to  inquire  if  she  had  heard  lately 
from  her  brother  at  sea,  and  said  that  she  had 
quite  a  curiosity  to  see  him,  and  imagined  him  a 
very  fine  young  man,  and  advised  Fanny  to  get  his 
picture  drawn  before  he  went  to  sea  again,  she 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


195 


could  not  help  admitting  it  to  be  very  agreeable 
flattery,  or  help  listening  and  answering  with 
more  animation  than  she  had  intended. 

The  consultation  upon  the  play  still  went  on; 
and  Miss  Crawford's  attention  was  first  called  from 
Fanny  by  Tom  Bertram's  telling  her,  with  infinite 
regret,  that  he  found  it  absolutely  impossible  for 
him  to  undertake  the  part  of  Anhalt  in  addition  to 
the  Butler:  he  had  been  most  anxiously  trying 
to  make  it  out  to  be  feasible,  but  it  would  not 
do, — he  must  give  it  up.  ^^But  there  will  not 
be  the  smallest  difficulty  in  filling  it,"  he  added. 
^^We  have  but  to  speak  the  word;  we  may  pick 
and  choose.  I  could  name  at  this  moment  at  least 
six  young  men  within  six  miles  of  us,  who  are 
wild  to  be  admitted  into  our  company,  and  there 
are  one  or  two  that  would  not  disgrace  us,  —  I 
should  not  be  afraid  to  trust  either  of  the  Olivers 
or  Charles  Maddox.  Tom  Oliver  is  a  very  clever 
fellow,  and  Charles  Maddox  is  as  gentlemanlike  a 
man  as  you  will  see  anywhere ;  so  I  will  take  my 
horse  early  to-morrow  morning  and  ride  over  to 
Stoke,  and  settle  with  one  of  them." 

While  he  spoke  Maria  was  looking  apprehen- 
sively round  at  Edmund,  in  full  expectation 
that  he  must  oppose  such  an  enlargement  of  the 
plan  as  this,  —  so  contrary  to  all  their  first  protes- 
tations ;  but  Edmund  said  nothing.  After  a  mo- 
ment's thought  Miss  Crawford  calmly  replied: 
^^As  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  can  have  no  objec- 
tion to  anything  that  you  all  think  eligible. 
Have  I  ever  seen  either  of  the  gentlemen?  Yes, 
Mr.  Charles  Maddox  dined  at  my  sister's  one  day, 


196 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


did  not  he,  Henry?  A  quiet-looking  young  i  an. 
I  remember  him.  Let  him  be  applied  to,  if  you 
please,  for  it  will  be  less  unpleasant  to  me  than 
to  have  a  perfect  stranger.'^ 

Charles  Maddox  was  to  be  the  man.  Tom  re- 
peated his  resolution  of  going  to  him  early  on 
the  morrow;  and  though  Julia,  who  had  scarcely 
opened  her  lips  before,  observed  in  a  sarcastic 
manner,  and  with  a  glance  first  at  Maria  and  then 
at  Edmund,  that  ^Hhe  Mansfield  theatricals  would 
enliven  the  whole  neighborhood  exceedingly,'^  Ed- 
mund still  held  his  peace,  and  showed  his  feelings 
only  by  a  determined  gravity. 

^^I  am  not  very  sanguine  as  to  our  play,"  said 
Miss  Crawford,  in  an  under  voice  to  Fanny,  after 
some  consideration;  and  I  can  tell  Mr.  Maddox 
that  I  shall  shorten  some  of  his  speeches,  and  a 
great  many  of  my  own  before  we  rehearse  together. 
It  will  be  very  disagreeable,  and  by  no  means  what 
I  expected." 


CHAPTEE  XVI. 


It  was  not  in  Miss  Crawford's  power  to  talk 
Fanny  into  any  real  forgetfulness  of  what  had 
passed.  When  the  evening  was  over^  she  went  to 
bed  full  of  it,  her  nerves  still  agitated  by  the 
shock  of  such  an  attack  from  her  cousin  Tom,  so 
public  and  so  persevered  in,  and  her  spirits  sink- 
ing under  her  aunt's  unkind  reflection  and  re- 
proach. To  be  called  into  notice  in  such  a  manner, 
to  hear  that  it  was  but  the  prelude  to  something  so 
infinitely  worse,  to  be  told  that  she  must  do  what 
was  so  impossible  as  to  act;  and  then  to  have  the 
charge  of  obstinacy  and  ingratitude  follow  it,  en- 
forced with  such  a  hint  at  the  dependence  of  her 
situation,  had  been  too  distressing  at  the  time  to 
make  the  remembrance  when  she  was  alone  much 
less  so,  —  especially  with  the  superadded  dread  of 
what  the  morrow  might  produce  in  continuation  of 
the  subject.  Miss  Crawford  had  protected  her 
only  for  the  time;  and  if  she  were  applied  to 
again  among  themselves  with  all  the  authoritative 
urgency  that  Tom  and  Maria  were  capable  of,  and 
Edmund  perhaps  away,  what  should  she  do?  She 
fell  asleep  before  she  could  answer  the  question, 
and  found  it  quite  as  puzzling  when  she  awoke  the 
next  morning.  The  little  white  attic,  which  had 
continued  her  sleeping-room  ever  since  her  first 


198 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


entering  the  family,  proving  incompetent  to  sug- 
gest any  reply,  she  had  recourse,  as  soon  as  she 
was  dressed,  to  another  apartment  more  spacious 
and  more  meet  for  walking  about  in  and  think- 
ing, and  of  which  she  had  now  for  some  time  been 
almost  equally  mistress.  It  had  been  their  school- 
room; so  called  till  the  Miss  Bertrams  would  not 
allow  it  to  be  called  so  any  longer,  and  inhabited 
as  such  to  a  later  period.  There  Miss  Lee  had 
lived,  and  there  they  had  read  and  written  and 
talked  and  laughed,  till  within  the  last  three  years, 
when  she  had  quitted  them.  The  room  had  then 
become  useless,  and  for  some  time  was  quite  de- 
serted, except  by  Panny,  when  she  visited  her 
plants,  or  wanted  one  of  the  books  which  she  was 
still  glad  to  "keep  there  from  the  deficiency  of  space 
and  accommodation  in  her  little  chamber  above: 
but  gradually,  as  her  value  for  the  comforts  of  it 
increased,  she  had  added  to  her  possessions,  and 
spent  more  of  her  time  there;  and  having  nothing 
to  oppose  her,  had  so  naturally  and  so  artlessly 
worked  herself  into  it  that  it  was  now  generall}^ 
admitted  to  be  hers.  The  East  room,  as  it  had 
been  called  ever  since  Maria  Bertram  was  sixteen, 
w^as  now  considered  Fanny's  almost  as  decidedly 
as  the  white  attic;  the  smallness  of  the  one  mak- 
ing the  use  of  the  other  so  evidently  reasonable 
that  the  Miss  Bertrams,  with  every  superiority  in 
their  own  apartments  which  their  own  sense  of 
superiority  could  demand,  were  entirely  approving 
it;  and  Mrs.  Norris,  having  stipulated  for  there 
never  being  a  fire  in  it  on  Fanny's  account,  was 
tolerably  resigned  to  her  having  the  use  of  what 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


199 


nobody  else  wanted,  tliough  the  terms  in  which 
she  sometimes  spoke  of  the  indulgence  seemed  to 
imply  that  it  was  the  best  room  in  the  house. 

The  aspect  was  so  favorable  that  even  without  a 
fire  it  was  habitable  in  many  an  early  spring  and 
late  autumn  morning,  to  such  a  willing  mind  as 
Fanny's ;  and  while  there  was  a  gleam  of  sunshine, 
she  hoped  not  to  be  driven  from  it  entirely,  even 
when  winter  came.  The  comfort  of  it  in  her 
hours  of  leisure  was  extreme.  She  could  go  there 
after  anything  unpleasant  below,  and  find  imme- 
diate consolation  in  some  pursuit,  or  some  train  of 
thought  at  hand.  Her  plants,  her  books,  —  of 
which  she  had  been  a  collector,  from  the  first  hour 
of  her  commanding  a  shilling,  —  her  writing-desk, 
and  her  works  of  charity  and  ingenuity  were  all 
within  her  reach;  or  if  indisposed  for  employment, 
if  nothing  but  musing  would  do,  she  could  scarcely 
see  an  object  in  that  room  which  had  not  an  inter- 
esting remembrance  connected  with  it.  Every- 
thing was  a  friend,  or  bore  her  thoughts  to  a 
friend;  and  though  there  had  been  sometimes 
much  of  suffering  to  her, — though  her  motives 
had  been  often  misunderstood,  her  feelings  disre- 
garded, and  her  comprehension  undervalued,  — • 
though  she  had  known  the  pains  of  tyranny,  of 
ridicule,  and  neglect,  —  yet  almost  every  recur- 
rence of  either  had  led  to  something  consolatory: 
her  aunt  Bertram  had  spoken  for  her,  or  Miss  Lee 
had  been  encouraging,  or  what  was  yet  more  fre- 
quent or  more  dear,  Edmund  had  been  her  cham- 
pion and  her  friend,  —  he  had  supported  her  cause 
or  explained  her  meaning,  he  had  told  her  not  to 


200 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


cry,  or  had  given  her  some  proof  of  affection  which 
made  her  tears  delightful,  —  and  the  whole  was 
now  so  blended  together,  so  harmonized  by  dis- 
tance, that  every  former  affliction  had  its  charm. 
The  room  was  most  dear  to  her,  and  she  would 
not  have  changed  its  furniture  for  the  handsomest 
in  the  house,  though  what  had  been  originally 
plain  had  suffered  all  the  ill-usage  of  children; 
and  its  greatest  elegances  and  ornaments  were  a 
faded  footstool  of  Julia's  work,  too  ill  done  for  the 
drawing-room ;  three  transparencies,  made  in  a  rage 
for  transparencies,  for  the  three  lower  panes  of 
one  window,  where  Tintern  Abbey  held  its  station 
between  a  cave  in  Italy  and  a  moonlight  lake  in 
Cumberland ;  a  collection  of  family  profiles  thought 
unworthy  of  being  anywhere  else,  over  the  mantel- 
piece; and  by  their  side,  and  pinned  against  the 
wall,  a  small  sketch  of  a  ship  sent  four  years 
ago  from  the  Mediterranean  by  William,  with 
'^H.  M.  S.  Antwerp"  at  the  bottom  in  letters  as 
tall  as  the  mainmast. 

To  this  nest  of  comforts  Fanny  now  walked 
down  to  try  its  influence  on  an  agitated,  doubting 
spirit,  —  to  see  if  by  looking  at  Edmund's  profile 
she  could  catch  any  of  his  counsel,  or  by  giving 
air  to  her  geraniums  she  might  inhale  a  breeze  of 
mental  strength  herself.  But  she  had  more  than 
fears  of  her  own  perseverance  to  remove :  she  had 
begun  to  feel  undecided  as  to  what  she  ought  to 
do;  and  as  she  walked  round  the  room,  her  doubts 
were  increasing.  Was  she  right  in  refusing  what 
was  so  warmly  asked,  so  strongly  vfished  for? 
What  might  be  so  essential  to  a  scheme  on  which 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


201 


some  of  those  to  whom  she  owed  the  greatest 
complaisance  had  set  their  hearts?  Was  it  not  ill- 
nature,  selfishness,  and  a  fear  of  exposing  her- 
self? And  would  Edmund's  judgment,  would  his 
persuasion  of  Sir  Thomas's  disapprobation  of  the 
whole,  be  enough  to  justify  her  in  a  determined 
denial  in  spite  of  all  the  rest?  It  would  be  so 
horrible  to  her  to  act,  that  she  was  inclined  to  sus- 
pect the  truth  and  purity  of  her  own  scruples; 
and  as  she  looked  around  her,  the  claims  of  her 
cousins  to  being  obliged  were  strengthened  by  the 
sight  of  present  upon  present  that  she  had  received 
from  them.  The  table  between  the  windows  was 
covered  with  work-boxes  and  netting-boxes  which 
had  been  given  her  at  different  times,  principally 
by  Tom ;  and  she  grew  bewildered  as  to  the  amount 
of  the  debt  which  all  these  kind  remembrances 
produced.  A  tap  at  the  door  roused  her  in  the 
midst  of  this  attempt  to  find  her  way  to  her  duty, 
and  her  gentle  ^^Come  in"  was  answered  by  the 
appearance  of  one  before  whom  all  her  doubts  were 
wont  to  be  laid.  Her  eyes  brightened  at  the 
sight  of  Edmund. 

^^Can  I  speak  with  you,  Fanny,  for  a  few  min- 
utes ?  "  said  he. 

^^Yes,  certainly,'^ 
I  want  to  consult  —  T  want  your  opinion. 

''My  opinion!'^  she  cried,  shrinking  from  such 
a  compliment,  highly  as  it  gratified  her. 

Yes,  your  advice  and  opinion.  I  do  not  know 
what  to  do.  This  acting  scheme  gets  worse  and 
worse,  you  see.  They  have  chosen  almost  as  bad 
a  play  as  they  could;  and  now,  to  complete  the 


202 


MANSFIELD  PAEK 


business,  are  going  to  ask  the  help  of  a  young  man 
very'  slightly  known  to  any  of  us.  This  is  the  end 
of  all  the  privacy  and  propriety  which  was  talked 
about  at  first.  I  know  no  harm  of  Charles  Mad- 
dox;  but  the  excessive  intimacy  which  must  spring 
from  his  being  admitted  among  us  in  this  manner 
is  highly  objectionable,  — the  more  than  intimacy, 
the  familiarity.  I  cannot  think  of  it  with  any 
patience ;  and  it  does  appear  to  me  an  evil  of  such 
magnitude  as  must,  if  possible,  be  prevented.  Do 
not  you  see  it  in  the  same  light? 

Yes;  but  what  can  be  done?  Your  brother  is 
so  determined." 

"  There  is  but  one  thing  to  be  done,  Fanny.  I 
must  take  Anhalt  myself.  I  am  well  aware  that 
nothing  else  will  quiet  Tom.'' 

Fanny  could  not  answer  him. 

^^It  is  not  at  all  what  I  like,"  he  continued. 
^^No  man  can  like  being  driven  into  the  appear- 
ance of  such  inconsistency.  After  being  known 
to  oppose  the  scheme  from  the  beginning,  there  is 
absurdity  in  the  face  of  my  joining  them  now, 
when  they  are  exceeding  their  first  plan  in  every 
respect;  but  I  can  think  of  no  other  alternative. 
Can  you,  Fanny? '' 

^^No,''  said  Fanny,  slowly,  ^^not  immediately; 
but  —  " 

^^But  what?  I  see  your  judgment  is  not  with 
me.  Think  it  a  little  over.  Perhaps  you  are  not 
so  much  aware  as  I  am  of  the  mischief  that  may, 
of  the  unpleasantness  that  must,  arise  from  a 
young  man's  being  received  in  this  manner,  — 
domesticated  among  us,  authorized  to  come  at  all 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


203 


hours,  and  placed  suddenly  on  a  footing  which 
must  do  away  all  restraints.  To  think  only  of 
the  license  which  every  rehearsal  must  tend  to 
create.  It  is  all  very  bad!  Put  yourself  in  Miss 
Crawford's  place,  Panny.  Consider  what  it  would 
be  to  act  Amelia  with  a  stranger.  She  has  a 
right  to  be  felt  for,  because  she  evidently  feels  for 
herself.  I  heard  enough  of  what  she  said  to  you 
last  night,  to  understand  her  unwillingness  to  be 
acting  with  a  stranger;  and  as  she  probably  en- 
gaged in  the  part  with  different  expectations, 
perhaps  without  considering  the  subject  enough  to 
know  what  w^as  likely  to  be,  it  would  be  ungen- 
erous, it  would  be  really  wrong  to  expose  her  to 
it.  Her  feelings  ought  to  be  respected.  Does  it 
not  strike  you  so,  Panny?    You  hesitate.'^ 

^^I  am  sorry  for  Miss  Crawford;  but  I  am  more 
sorry  to  see  you  drawn  in  to  do  what  you  have 
resolved  against,  and  what  you  are  known  to  think 
will  be  disagreeable  to  my  uncle.  It  will  be  such 
a  triumph  to  the  others!  " 

^^They  will  not  have  much  cause  of  triumph 
when  they  see  how  infamously  I  act.  But,  how- 
ever, triumph  there  certainly  will  be,  and  I  must 
brave  it.  But  if  I  can  be  the  means  of  restraining 
the  publicity  of  the  business,  of  limiting  the  ex- 
hibition, of  concentrating  our  folly,  I  shall  be  well 
repaid.  As  I  am  now,  I  have  no  influence,  I  can 
do  nothing;  I  have  offended  them,  and  they  will 
not  hear  me,  but  when  I  have  put  them  in  good 
humor  by  this  concession,  I  am  not  without  hopes 
of  persuading  them  to  confine  the  representation 
within  a  much  smaller  circle  than  they  are  now  in 


204 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


the  high  road  for.    This  will  be  a  material  gain. 
My  object  is  to  confine  it  to  Mrs.  Eush worth  and 
the  Grants.    Will  not  this  be  worth  gaining? 
Yes,  it  will  be  a  great  point.'' 

^^But  still  it  has  not  your  approbation.  Can 
you  mention  any  other  measure  by  which  I  have  a 
chance  of  doing  equal  good? '' 

^^iso,  I  cannot  think  of  anything  else." 

'^Give  me  your  approbation,  then,  Fanny.  I 
am  not  comfortable  without  it.'' 

^^Oh,  cousin." 
If  you  are  against  me,  I  ought  to  distrust  my- 
self; and  yet —  But  it  is  absolutely  impossible 
to  let  Tom  go  on  in  this  way,  riding  about  the 
country  in  quest  of  anybody  who  can  be  persuaded 
to  act,  —  no  matter  whom ;  the  look  of  a  gentleman 
is  to  be  enough.  I  thought  you  would  have  en- 
tered more  into  Miss  Crawford's  feelings." 

''ISo  doubt  she  will  be  very  glad.  It  must  be  a 
great  relief  to  her,"  said  Fanny,  trying  for  greater 
warmth  of  manner. 

^^She  never  appeared  more  amiable  than  in  her 
behavior  to  you  last  night.  It  gave  her  a  very 
strong  claim  on  my  good-will." 

^^She  was  very  kind,  indeed,  and  I  am  glad  to 
have  her  spared  —  " 

She  could  not  finish  the  generous  effusion.  Her 
conscience  stopped  her  in  the  middle;  but  Edmund 
was  satisfied. 

'^I  shall  walk  down  immediately  after  break- 
fast," said  he,  '^and  am  sure  of  giving  pleasure 
there.  And  now,  dear  Fanny,  I  will  not  interrapt 
you  any  longer.    You  want  to  be  reading.    But  I 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


205 


could  not  be  easy  till  I  had  spoken  to  you  and 
come  to  a  decision.  Sleeping  or  waking,  my  head 
has  been  full  of  this  matter  all  night.  It  is  an 
evilj — but  I  am  certainly  making  it  less  than  it 
might  be.  If  Tom  is  up,  I  shall  go  to  him  di- 
rectly and  get  it  over;  and  when  we  meet  at 
breakfast  we  shall  be  all  in  high  good-humor  at 
the  prospect  of  acting  the  fool  together  with  such 
unanimity.  You  in  the  mean  while  will  be  taking 
a  trip  into  China,  I  suppose.  How  does  Lord 
Macartney  go  on?'^  opening  a  volume  on  the  ta- 
ble, and  then  taking  up  some  others.  And  here 
are  Crabbe's  Tales  and  the  Idler,  at  hand  to 
relieve  you  if  you  tire  of  your  great  book.  I  ad- 
mire your  little  establishment  exceedingly;  and  as 
soon  as  I  am  gone  you  will  empty  your  head  of  all 
this  nonsense  of  acting,  and  sit  comfortably  down 
to  your  table.    But  do  not  stay  here  to  be  cold.'^ 

He  went;  but  there  was  no  reading,  no  China, 
no  composure  for  Eanny.  He  had  told  her  the 
most  extraordinary,  the  most  inconceivable,  the 
most  unwelcome  news;  and  she  could  think  of 
nothing  else.  To  be  acting!  After  all  his  ob- 
jections, —  objections  so  just  and  so  public!  After 
all  that  she  had  heard  him  say,  and  seen  him  look, 
and  known  him  to  be  feeling!  Could  it  be  pos- 
sible? Edmund  so  inconsistent!  Was  he  not 
deceiving  himself?  Was  he  not  wrong?  Alas!  it 
was  all  Miss  Crawford's  doing.  She  had  seen  her 
influence  in  every  speech,  and  was  miserable. 
The  doubts  and  alarms  as  to  her  own  conduct, 
which  had  previously  distressed  her,  and  which 
had  all  slept  while   she  listened  to  him,  were 


206 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


become  of  little  consequence  now.  This  deeper 
aiixiety  swallowed  them  up.  Things  should  take 
their  course;  she  cared  not  how  it  ended.  Her 
cousins  might  attack,  but  could  hardly  tease  her. 
She  was  beyond  their  reach;  and  if  at  last  obliged 
to  yield;  no  matter,  —  it  was  all  misery  now. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


It  was,  indeed,  a  triumphant  day  to  Mr.  Bertram 
and  Maria.  Such  a  victory  over  Edmund's  dis- 
cretion had  been  beyond  their  hopes,  and  was 
most  delightful.  There  was  no  longer  anything 
to  disturb  them  in  their  darling  project,  and  they 
congratulated  each  other  in  private  on  the  jealous 
weakness  to  which  they  attributed  the  change, 
with  all  the  glee  of  feelings  gratified  in  everyway. 
Edmund  might  still  look  grave,  and  say  he  did  not 
like  the  scheme  in  general,  and  must  disapprove  the 
play  in  particular ;  their  point  was  gained :  he  was 
to  act,  and  he  was  driven  to  it  by  the  force  of 
selfish  inclinations  only.  Edmund  had  descended 
from  that  moral  elevation  which  he  had  maintained 
before,  and  they  were  both  as  much  the  better  as 
the  happier  for  the  descent. 

They  behaved  very  well,  however,  to  him  on  the 
occasion,  betraying  no  exultation  bej^ond  the  lines 
about  the  corners  of  the  mouth,  and  seemed  to 
think  it  as  great  an  escape  to  be  quit  of  the  intru- 
sion of  Charles  Maddox,  as  if  they  had  been  forced 
into    admitting  him   against  their  inclination. 

To  have  it  quite  in  their  own  family  circle  was 
what  they  had  particularly  wished.  A  stranger 
among  them  would  have  been  the  destruction  of 
all  their  comfort      and  when  Edmund;  pursuing 


208 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


that  idea,  gave  a  hint  of  his  hope  as  to  the  limita- 
ti\)n  of  the  audience,  they  were  ready,  in  the  com- 
plaisance of  the  moment,  to  promise  anything.  It 
was  all  good-humor  and  encouragement.  Mrs. 
Norris  offered  to  contrive  his  dress,  Mr.  Yates 
assured  him  that  Anhalt's  last  scene  with  the 
Baron  admitted  a  good  deal  of  action  and  empha- 
sis, and  Mr.  Eushworth  undertook  to  count  his 
speeches. 

Perhaps,"  said  Tom,  Fanny  may  be  more 
disposed  to  oblige  us  now.  Perhaps  you  may  per- 
suade her.'^ 

^^N"o;  she  is  quite  determined.  She  certainly 
will  not  act.'^ 

^^Oh,  very  well."  And  not  another  word  was 
said;  but  Fanny  felt  herself  again  in  danger,  and 
her  indifference  to  the  danger  was  beginning  to 
fail  her  already. 

There  were  not  fewer  smiles  at  the  Parsonage 
than  at  the  Park  on  this  change  in  Edmund;  Miss 
Crawford  looked  very  lovely  in  hers,  and  entered 
with  such  an  instantaneous  renewal  of  cheerfulness 
into  the  whole  affair,  as  could  have  but  one  effect 
on  him.  He  was  certainly  right  in  respecting 
such  feelings ;  he  was  glad  he  had  determined  on 
it."  And  the  morning  wore  away  in  satisfactions 
very  sweet,  if  not  very  sound.  One  advantage  re- 
sulted from  it  to  Fanny ;  at  the  earnest  request  of 
Miss  Crawford,  Mrs.  Grant  had,  with  her  usual 
good-humor,  agreed  to  undertake  the  part  for 
which  Fanny  had  been  wanted;  and  this  was  all 
that  occurred  to  gladden  her  heart  during  the  day ; 
and  even  this,  when  imparted  by  Edmund,  brought 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


209 


a  pang  with  it,  for  it  was  Miss  Crawford  to  whom 
she  was  obliged,  it  was  Miss  Crawford  whose  kind 
exertions  were  to  excite  her  gratitude,  and  whose 
merit  in  making  them  was  spoken  of  with  a  glow 
of  admiration.  She  was  safe ;  but  peace  and  safety 
were  unconnected  here.  Her  mind  had  been  never 
farther  from  peace.  She  could  not  feel  that  she 
had  done  wrong  herself,  but  she  was  disquieted  in. 
every  other  wayc  Her  heart  and  her  judgment 
were  equally  against  Edmund's  decision :  she  could 
not  acquit  his  unsteadiness;  and  his  happiness 
under  it  made  her  wretched.  She  was  full  of  jeal- 
ousy and  agitation.  Miss  Crawford  came  with 
looks  of  gayety  which  seemed  an  insult,  with 
friendly  expressions  towards  herself  which  she  could 
hardly  answer  calmly.  Everybody  around  her  was 
gay  and  busy,  prosperous  and  important;  each  had 
their  object  of  interest,  their  part,  their  dress, 
their  favorite  scene,  their  friends  and  confederates, 
—  all  were  finding  employment  in  consultations  and 
comparisons,  or  diversion  in  the  playful  conceits 
they  suggested.  She  alone  was  sad  and  insignifi- 
cant; she  had  no  share  in  anything;  she  might  go 
or  stay,  she  might  be  in  the  midst  of  their  noise, 
or  retreat  from  it  to  the  solitude  of  the  East  room, 
without  being  seen  or  missed.  She  could  almost 
think  anything  would  have  been  preferable  to  this. 
Mrs.  Grant  was  of  consequence;  her  good-nature 
had  honorable  mention,  her  taste  and  her  time 
were  considered,  her  presence  was  wanted,  she 
was  sought  for  and  attended  and  praised;  and 
Fanny  was  at  first  in  some  danger  of  envying  her 
the  character  she  had  accepted.    But  reflection 

VOL.  I.  — 14 


210 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


bi:ouglit  better  feelings,  and  showed  her  that  Mrs. 
Grant  was  entitled  to  respect  which  could  never 
have  belonged  to  her;  and  that  had  she  received 
even  the  greatest,  she  could  never  have  been  easy 
in  joining  a  scheme  which,  considering  only  her 
uncle,  she  must  condemn  altogether. 

Fanny's  heart  was  not  absolutely  the  only  sad- 
dened one  amongst  them,  as  she  soon  began  to  ac- 
knowledge herself.  Julia  was  a  sufferer,  too, 
though  not  quite  so  blamelessly. 

Henry  Crawford  had  trifled  with  her  feelings; 
but  she  had  very  long  allowed  and  even  sought  his 
attentions,  with  a  jealousy  of  her  sister  so  reason- 
able as  ought  to  have  been  their  cure ;  and  now 
that  the  conviction  of  his  preference  for  Maria  had 
been  forced  on  her,  she  submitted  to  it  without 
any  alarm  for  Maria's  situation,  or  any  endeavor  at 
rational  tranquillity  for  herself.  She  either  sat  in 
gloomy  silence,  wrapped  in  such  gravity  as  nothing 
could  subdue,  no  curiosity  touch,  no  wit  amuse;  or 
allowing  the  attentions  of  Mr.  Yates,  was  talking 
with  forced  gayety  to  him  alone,  and  ridiculing  the 
acting  of  the  others. 

For  a  day  or  two  after  the  affront  was  given, 
Henry  Crawford  had  endeavored  to  do  it  away  by 
the  usual  attack  of  gallantry  and  compliment,  but 
he  had  not  cared  enough  about  it  to  persevere 
against  a  few  repulses;  and  becoming  soon  too 
busy  with  his  play  to  have  time  for  more  than  one 
flirtation,  he  grew  indifferent  to  the  quarrel,  or 
rather  thought  it  a  lucky  occurrence,  as  quietly 
putting  an  end  to  what  might  erelong  have  raised 
expectations  in  more  than  Mrs.  Grant.    She  w^as 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


211 


not  pleased  to  see  Julia  excluded  from  the  play, 
and  sitting  by  disregarded;  but  as  it  was  not  a 
matter  which  really  involved  her  happiness,  as 
Henry  must  be  the  best  judge  of  his  own,  and  as 
he  did  assure  her,  with  a  most  persuasive  smile, 
that  neither  he  nor  Julia  had  ever  had  a  serious 
thought  of  each  other,  she  could  only  renew  her 
former  caution  as  to  the  elder  sister,  entreat  him 
not  to  risk  his  tranquillity  by  too  much  admira- 
tion there,  and  then  gladly  take  her  share  in  any- 
thing that  brought  cheerfulness  to  the  young  people 
in  general,  and  that  did  so  particularly  promote 
the  pleasure  of  the  two  so  dear  to  her. 

I  rather  wonder  Julia  is  not  in  love  with 
Henry,''  was  her  observation  to  Mary. 

"  I  dare  say  she  is,''  replied  Mary,  coldly.  I 
imagine  both  sisters  are." 

^^Both!  no,  no,  that  must  not  be.  Do  not  give 
him  a  hint  of  it.    Think  of  Mr.  Eushworth." 

You  had  better  tell  Miss  Bertram  to  think  of 
Mr.  Kushworth.  It  may  do  her  some  good.  I 
often  think  of  Mr.  Rushworth's  property  and 
independence,  and  wish  them  in  other  hands; 
but  I  never  think  of  him.  A  man  might  rep- 
resent the  county  with  such  an  estate;  a  man 
might  escape  a  profession  and  represent  the 
county." 

^'I  dare  say  he  will  be  in  parliament  soon. 
When  Sir  Thomas  comes,  I  dare  say  he  will  be  in 
for  some  borough;  but  there  has  been  nobody  to 
put  him  in  the  way  of  doing  anything  yet." 

"  Sir  Thomas  is  to  achieve  mighty  things  when 
he  comes  home,"  said  Mary,  after  a  pause.  ^^Do 


212 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


you  remember  Hawkins  Browne's  '  Address  to  To- 
bacco/ in  imitation  of  Pope?  — 

'  Blest  leaf  !  whose  aromatic  gales  dispense 
To  Templars  modestj,  to  Parsons  sense  *  ? 

I  will  parody  them :  — 

Blest  Knight !  whose  dictatorial  looks  dispense 
To  Children  affluence,  to  Rush  worth  sense. 

Will  not  that  do,  Mrs.  Grant?  Everything  seems 
to  depend  upon  Sir  Thomas's  return." 

You  will  find  his  consequence  very  just  and 
reasonable  when  you  see  him  in  his  family,  I  as- 
sure you.  I  do  not  think  we  do  so  well  without 
him.  He  has  a  fine,  dignified  manner,  which  suits 
the  head  of  such  a  house,  and  keeps  everybody  in 
their  place.  Lady  Bertram  seems  more  of  a  cipher 
now  than  when  he  is  at  home ;  and  nobody  else  can 
keep  Mrs.  ISTorris  in  order.  But,  Mary,  do  not 
fancy  that  Maria  Bertram  cares  for  Henry.  I  am 
sure  Julia  does  not,  or  she  would  not  have  flirted 
as  she  did  last  night  with  Mr.  Yates;  and  though 
he  and  Maria  are  very  good  friends,  I  think  she 
likes  Sotherton  too  well  to  be  inconstant." 

I  would  not  give  much  for  Mr.  Eushworth's 
chance,  if  Henry  stepped  in  before  the  articles 
were  signed." 

"  If  you  have  such  a  suspicion,  something  must 
be  done;  and  as  soon  as  the  play  is  all  over,  we 
will  talk  to  him  seriously,  and  make  him  know  his 
own  mind;  and  if  he  means  nothing,  we  will  send 
him  off,  though  he  is  Henry,  for  a  time." 

Julia  did  suffer,  however,  though  Mrs.  Grant 
discerned  it  not,  and  though  it  escaped  the  notice 


MANSFIELD  PARK 


213 


of  many  of  her  own  family  likewise.  She  had 
loved,  she  did  love  still,  and  she  had  all  the  suffer- 
ing which  a  warm  temper  and  a  high  spirit  were 
likely  to  endure  under  the  disappointment  of  a 
dear  though  irrational  hope,  with  a  strong  sense 
of  ill-usage.  Her  heart  was  sore  and  angry,  and 
she  was  capable  only  of  angry  consolations.  The 
sister  with  whom  she  was  used  to  be  on  easy  terms 
was  now  become  her  greatest  enemy:  they  were 
alienated  from  each  other;  and  Julia  was  not  su- 
perior to  the  hope  of  some  distressing  end  to  the 
attentions  which  were  still  carrying  on  there, 
some  punishment  to  Maria  for  conduct  so  shame- 
ful towards  herself  as  well  as  towards  Mr.  Eush- 
worth.  With  no  material  fault  of  temper,  or 
difference  of  opinion,  to  prevent  their  being  very 
good  friends  while  their  interests  were  the  same, 
the  sisters,  under  such  a  trial  as  this,  had  not  af- 
fection or  principle  enough  to  make  them  merciful 
or  just,  to  give  them  honor  or  compassion.  Maria 
felt  her  triumph,  and  pursued  her  purpose  careless 
of  Julia;  and  Julia  could  never  see  Maria  distin- 
guished by  Henry  Crawford  without  trusting  that 
it  would  create  jealousy,  and  bring  a  public  dis- 
turbance at  last. 

Fanny  saw  and  pitied  much  of  this  in  Julia; 
but  there  was  no  outward  fellowship  between 
them.  Julia  made  no  communication,  and  Fanny 
took  no  liberties.  They  were  two  solitary  suffer- 
ers, or  connected  only  by  Fanny's  consciousness. 

The  inattention  of  the  two  brothers  and  the 
aunt  to  Julia's  discomposure,  and  their  blindness 
to  its  true  cause,  must  be  imputed  to  the  fulness 


214 


MANSEIELD  PARK. 


of  their  own  minds.  They  were  totallr  preoccu- 
pied. Tom  was  engrossed  by  the  concerns  of  his 
theatre,  and  saw  nothing  that  did  not  immedi- 
ately relate  to  it.  Edmund,  between  his  theatri- 
cal and  his  real  part,  between  Miss  Crawford's 
claims  and  his  own  conduct,  betw^een  love  and 
consistency^,  was  equally  unobservant;  and  Mrs. 
Norris  was  too  busy  in  contriving  and  directing 
the  general  little  matters  of  the  company,  super- 
intending their  various  dresses  with  economical 
expedient,  for  which  nobody  thanked  her,  and 
saving,  with  delighted  integrity,  half-a^crown 
here  and  there  to  the  absent  Sir  Thomas,  to  have 
leisure  for  watching  the  behavior  or  guarding 
the  happiness  of  his  daughters. 


CHAPTEE  XVIII. 


Etorything  was  now  in  a  regular  train,  —  theatre, 
actors,  actresses,  and  dresses  were  all  getting 
forward;  but  though  no  other  great  impediments 
arose,  Eanny  found,  before  many  days  were  past, 
that  it  was  not  all  uninterrupted  enjoyment  to 
the  party  themselves,  and  that  she  had  not  to 
witness  the  continuance  of  such  unanimity  and 
delight  as  had  been  almost  too  much  for  her  at 
first.  Everybody  began  to  have  their  vexation. 
Edmund  had  many.  Entirely  against  his  judg- 
ment, a  scene-painter  arrived  from  town,  and  was 
at  work,  much  to  the  increase  of  the  expenses, 
and,  what  was  worse,  of  the  edaty  of  their  pro- 
ceedings ;  and  his  brother,  instead  of  being  really 
guided  by  him  as  to  the  privacy  of  the  represen- 
tation, was  giving  an  invitation  to  every  family 
who  came  in  his  way.  Tom  himself  began  to 
fret  over  the  scene-painter's  slow  progress,  and  to 
feel  the  miseries  of  waiting.  He  had  learned  his 
part,  —  all  his  parts,  —  for  he  took  every  trifling 
one  that  could  be  united  with  the  Butler,  and  be- 
gan to  be  impatient  to  be  acting;  and  every  day 
thus  unemployed  was  tending  to  increase  his 
sense  of  the  insignificance  of  all  his  parts  to- 
gether, and  make  him  more  ready  to  regret  that 
some  other  play  had  not  been  chosen. 


216 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


Fanny,  being  always  a  very  courteous  listener, 
and  often  the  only  listener  at  hand,  came  in  for 
the  complaints  and  distresses  of  most  of  them. 
She  knew  that  Mr.  Yates  was  in  general  thought 
to  rant  dreadfully;  that  Mr.  Yates  was  disap- 
pointed in  Henry  Crawford;  that  Tom  Bertram 
spoke  so  quick  he  would  be  unintelligible;  that 
Mrs.  Grant  spoiled  everything  by  laughing;  that 
Edmund  was  behindhand  with  his  part,  and 
that  it  was  misery  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
Mr.  Rushworth,  who  was  wanting  a  prompter 
through  every  speech.  She  knew,  also,  that  poor 
Mr.  E-ushworth  could  seldom  get  anybody  to  re- 
hearse with  him :  his  complaint  came  before  her 
as  well  as  the  rest;  and  so  decided  to  her  eye  was 
her  cousin  Maria's  avoidance  of  him^  and  so  need- 
lessly often  the  rehearsal  of  the  first  scene  between 
her  and  Mr.  Crawford,  that  she  had  soon  all  the 
terror  of  other  complaints  from  him.  So  far  from 
being  all  satisfied  and  all  enjojdng,  she  found 
everybody  requiring  something  they  had  not,  and 
giving  occasion  of  discontent  to  the  others.  Every-  ^ 
body  had  a  part  either  too  long  or  too  short;  no- 
body w^ould  attend  as  they  ought,  nobody  would 
remember  on  which  side  they  were  to  come  in, 
nobody  but  the  complainer  would  observe  any 
directions. 

Fanny  believed  herself  to  derive  as  much  inno- 
cent enjoyment  from  the  play  as  any  of  them; 
Henry  Crawford  acted  well,  and  it  was  a  pleasure 
to  her  to  creep  into  the  theatre,  and  attend  the 
rehearsal  of  the  first  act,  in  spite  of  the  feelings 
it  excited  in  some  speeches  for  Maria.    Maria  she 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


217 


also  thought  acted  well,  —  too  well ;  and  after 
the  first  rehearsal  or  two,  Fanny  began  to  be  their 
only  audience,  and  sometimes  as  prompter,  some- 
times as  spectator,  was  often  very  useful.  As  far 
as  she  could  judge,  Mr.  Crawford  was  considerably 
the  best  actor  of  all;  he  had  more  confidence  than 
Edmund,  more  judgment  than  Tom,  more  talent 
and  taste  than  Mr.  Yates.  She  did  not  like  him 
as  a  man,  but  she  must  admit  him  to  be  the  best 
actor,  and  on  this  point  there  were  not  many  who 
differed  from  her.  Mr.  Yates,  indeed,  exclaimed 
against  his  tameness  and  insipidity;  and  the  day 
came  at  last,  when  Mr.  Eushworth  turned  to  her 
with  a  black  look,  and  said:  "  Do  you  think  there 
is  anything  so  very  fine  in  all  this?  Eor  the  life 
and  soul  of  me,  I  cannot  admire  him;  and  be- 
tween ourselves,  to  see  such  an  undersized,  little, 
mean-looking  man  set  up  for  a  fine  actor,  is  very 
ridiculous  in  my  opinion." 

From  this  moment  there  was  a  return  of  his  for- 
mer jealousy,  which  Maria,  from  increasing  hopes 
of  Crawford,  was  at  little  pains  to  remove ;  and  the 
chances  of  Mr.  Kushworth's  ever  attaining  to  the 
knowledge  of  his  two-and-forty  speeches  became 
much  less.  As  to  his  ever  making  anything  toler- 
able of  them,  nobodj^  had  the  smallest  idea  of  that 
except  his  mother,  — she,  indeed,  regretted  that 
his  part  was  not  more  considerable,  and  deferred 
coming  over  to  Mansfield  till  they  were  forward 
enough  in  their  rehearsal  to  comprehend  all  his 
scenes;  but  the  others  aspired  at  nothing  beyond 
his  remembering  the  catchword,  and  the  first  line  of 
his  speech,  and  being  able  to  follow  the  prompter 


218 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


^  through  the  rest.  Panny,  in  her  pity  and  kind- 
heartedness,  was  at  great  pains  to  teach  him  how 
to  learn,  giving  him  all  the  helps  and  directions  in 
her  power,  trying  to  make  an  artificial  memory  for 
him,  and  learning  every  word  of  his  part  herself, 
but  without  his  being  much  the  forwarder. 

Many  uncomfortable,  anxious,  apprehensive  feel- 
ings she  certainly  had;  but  with  all  these,  and 
other  claims  on  her  time  and  attention,  she  was  as 
far  from  finding  herself  without  employment  or 
utility  amongst  them,  as  without  a  companion  in 
uneasiness ;  quite  as  far  from  having  no  demand  on 
her  leisure  as  on  her  compassion.  The  gloom  of 
her  first  anticipations  was  proved  to  have  been  un- 
founded. She  was  occasionally  useful  to  all;  she 
was  perhaps  as  much  at  peace  as  any. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  needlework  to  be  done, 
moreover,  in  which  her  help  was  wanted;  and  that 
Mrs.  Norris  thought  her  quite  as  well  off  as  the 
rest,  was  evident  by  the  manner  in  which  she 
claimed  it:  ^^Come,  Fanny, she  cried,  ^/ these 
are  fine  times  for  you;  but  you  must  not  be  always 
walking  from  one  room  to  the  other,  and  doing  the 
lookings  on,  at  your  ease,  in  this  way,  — I  want 
you  here.  I  have  been  slaving  myself  till  I  can 
hardly  stand,  to  contrive  Mr.  Kushworth's  cloak 
without  sending  for  any  more  satin;  and  now  I 
think  you  may  give  me  your  help  in  putting  it 
together.  There  are  but  three  seams;  you  may  do 
them  in  a  trice.  It  would  be  lucky  for  me  if  I  had 
nothing  but  the  executive  part  to  do.  You  are 
best  off,  I  can  tell  you;  but  if  nobody  did  more 
than  you,  we  should  not  get  on  very  fast." 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


219 


Fanny  took  tlie  work  very  quietly,  without 
attempting  any  defence;  but  her  kinder  aunt 
Bertram  observed  on  her  behalf,  — 

"  One  cannot  wonder,  sister,  that  Fanny  should 
be  delighted;  it  is  all  new  to  her,  you  know: 
you  and  I  used  to  be  very  fond  of  a  play  ourselves, 
and  so  am  I  still;  and  as  soon  as  I  am  a  little 
more  at  leisure,  I  mean  to  look  in  at  their  rehear- 
sals too.  What  is  the  play  about,  Fanny?  You 
have  never  told  me." 

^^Oh,  sister,  pray  do  not  ask  her  now;  for  Fanny 
is  not  one  of  those  who  can  talk  and  work  at  the 
same  time.    It  is  about  Lovers'  Vows.'' 

^^I  believe,"  said  Fanny  to  her  aunt  Bertram, 
"  there  will  be  three  acts  rehearsed  to-morrow  even- 
ing, and  that  will  give  you  an  opportunity  of 
seeing  all  the  actors  at  once." 

' '  You  had  better  stay  till  the  curtain  is  hung, ' ' 
interposed  Mrs.  Norris;  ^Hhe  curtain  will  be 
hung  in  a  day  or  two,  —  there  is  very  little  sense 
in  a  play  without  a  curtain,  — and  I  am  much  mis- 
taken if  you  do  not  find  it  draw  up  into  very 
handsome  festoons." 

Lady  Bertram  seemed  quite  resigned  to  waiting. 
Fanny  did  not  share  her  aunt's  composure;  she 
thought  of  the  morrow  a  great  deal,  —  for  if  the 
three  acts  were  rehearsed,  Edmund  and  Miss  Craw- 
ford would  then  be  acting  together  for  the  first 
time;  the  third  act  would  bring  a  scene  between 
them  which  interested  her  most  particularly,  and 
which  she  was  longing  and  dreading  to  see  how 
they  would  perform.  The  whole  subject  of  it  was 
love,  —  a  marriage  of  love  was  to  be  described  by 


220 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


the  gentleman,  and  very  little  short  of  a  declaration 
of  love  be  made  by  the  lady. 

She  had  read  and  read  the  scene  again  with 
many  painful,  many  wondering  emotions,  and 
looked  forward  to  their  representation  of  it  as  a 
circumstance  almost  too  interesting.  She  did  not 
believe  they  had  yet  rehearsed  it,  even  in  private. 

The  morrow  came,  the  plan  for  the  evening  con- 
tinued, and  Fanny's  consideration  of  it  did  not  be- 
come less  agitated.  She  worked  very  diligently 
under  her  aunt's  directions,  but  her  diligence  and 
her  silence  concealed  a  very  absent,  anxious  mind; 
and  about  noon  she  made  her  escape  with  her  work 
to  the  East  room,  that  she  might  have  no  concern 
in  another  and,  as  she  deemed  it,  most  unneces- 
sary rehearsal  of  the  first  act,  which  Henry  Craw- 
ford was  just  proposing,  desirous  at  once  of  having 
her  time  to  herself  and  of  avoiding  the  sight  of 
Mr.  Eushworth.  A  glimpse,  as  she  passed  through 
the  hall,  of  the  two  ladies  walking  up  from  the 
Parsonage  made  no  change  in  her  wish  of  retreat, 
and  she  worked  and  meditated  in  the  East  room, 
undisturbed,  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  when  a  gen- 
tle tap  at  the  door  was  followed  by  the  entrance 
of  Miss  Crawford. 

Am  I  right?  Yes;  this  is  the  East  room.  My 
dear  Miss  Price,  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  I  have 
made  my  way  to  you  on  purpose  to  entreat  your 
help." 

Fanny,  quite  surprised,  endeavored  to  show  her- 
self mistress  of  the  room  by  her  civilities,  and 
looked  at  the  bright  bars  of  her  empty  grate  with 
concern. 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


221 


Thank  you,  — I  am  quite  warm,  very  warm. 
Allow  me  to  stay  here  a  little  while,  and  do  have 
the  goodness  to  hear  me  my  third  act.  I  have 
hrought  my  book,  and  if  you  would  but  rehearse  it 
with  me,  I  should  be  so  obliged!  I  came  here  to- 
day intending  to  rehearse  it  with  Edmund  —  by 
ourselves  —  against  the  evening,  but  he  is  not  in 
the  way ;  and  if  he  were,  I  do  not  think  I  could  go 
through  it  with  him  till  I  have  hardened  myself  a 
little,  for  really  there  is  a  speech  or  two  —  You 
will  be  so  good,  won^t  you? 

Fann}^  was  most  civil  in  her  assurances,  though 
she  could  not  give  them  in  a  very  steady  voice. 

Have  you  ever  happened  to  look  at  the  part  I 
mean?  continued  Miss  Crawford,  opening  her 
book.  ^^Here  it  i-s.  I  did  not  think  much  of  it 
at  first ;  but,  upon  my  word  —  There,  look  at 
that  speech,  and  that  and  that !  How  am  I  ever  to 
look  him  in  the  face  and  say  such  things?  Could 
you  do  it?  But  then  he  is  your  cousin,  which 
makes  all  the  difference.  You  must  rehearse  it 
with  me,  that  I  may  fancy  you  him,  and  get  on  by 
degrees.    You  have  a  look  of  his  sometimes.'' 

Have  I?  I  will  do  my  best  with  the  greatest 
readiness;  but  I  must  read  the  part,  for  I  can  say 
very  little  of  it.'' 

^^None  of  it,  I  suppose.  You  are  to  have  the 
book,  of  course.  'Now  for  it.  We  must  have  two 
chairs  at  hand  for  you  to  bring  forward  to  the  front 
of  the  stage.  There  —  very  good  school-room  chairs, 
not  made  for  a  theatre,  I  dare  say;  much  more 
fitted  for  little  girls  to  sit  and  kick  their  feet 
against  when  they  are  learning  a  lesson.  What 


222 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


would  your  governess  and  your  uncle  say  to  see 
tliem  used  for  such  a  purpose?  Could  Sir  Thomas 
look  in  upon  us  just  now,  he  would  bless  himself, 
for  we  are  rehearsing  all  over  the  house.  Yates  is 
storming  away  in  the  dining-room.  I  heard  him 
as  I  came  upstairs ;  and  the  theatre  is  engaged  of 
course  by  those  indefatigable  rehearsers,  Agatha 
and  Frederick.  If  they  are  not  perfect,  I  shall  be 
surprised.  By  the  by,  I  looked  in  upon  them  five 
minutes  ago,  and  it  happened  to  be  exactly  at  one 
of  the  times  when  they  were  trying  not  to  embrace, 
and  Mr.-  Rushworth  was  with  me.  I  thought  he 
began  to  look  a  little  queer,  so  I  turned  it  off  as 
well  as  I  could,  by  whispering  to  him,  ^  We  shall 
have  an  excellent  Agatha;  there  is  something  so 
maternal  in  her  manner,  so  completely  maternal 
in  her  voice  and  countenance.'  Was  not  that  well 
done  of  me?  He  brightened  up  directly.  Now 
for  my  soliloquy. 

She  began,  and  Fanny  joined  in,  with  all  the 
modest  feeling  which  the  idea  of  representing  Ed- 
mund was  so  strongly  calculated  to  inspire,  but 
with  looks  and  voice  so  truly  feminine  as  to  be  no 
very  good  picture  of  a  man.  With  such  an  Anhalt, 
however.  Miss  Crawford  had  courage  enough;  and 
they  had  got  through  half  the  scene,  when  a  tap 
at  the  door  brought  a  pause,  and  the  entrance  of 
Edmund,  the  next  moment,  suspended  it  all. 

Surprise,  consciousness,  and  pleasure  appeared  in 
each  of  the  three  on  this  unexpected  meeting;  and 
as  Edmund  was  come  on  the  very  same  business 
that  had  brought  Miss  Crawford,  consciousness 
and  pleasure  were  likely  to  be  more  than  momen- 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


223 


tary  in  them.  He,  too,  had  his  book,  and  was 
seeking  Fanny,  to  ask  her  to  rehearse  with  him, 
and  help  him  to  prepare  for  the  evening,  without 
knowing  Miss  Crawford  to  he  in  the  house;  and 
great  was  the  joy  and  animation  of  being  thus 
thrown  together,  of  comparing  schemes,  and  sym- 
pathizing in  praise  of  Fanny's  kind  offices. 

She  could  not  equal  them  in  their  warmth. 
Her  spirits  sank  under  the  glow  of  theirs,  and  she 
felt  herself  becoming  too  nearly  nothing  to  both, 
to  have  any  comfort  in  having  been  sought  by 
either.  They  must  now  rehearse  together.  Ed- 
mund proposed,  urged,  entreated  it,  till  the 
lady,  not  very  unwilling  at  first,  could  refuse  no 
longer,  —  and  Fanny  was  wanted  only  to  prompt 
and  observe  them.  She  was  invested,  indeed, 
with  the  office  of  judge  and  critic,  and  earnestly 
desired  to  exercise  it  and  tell  them  all  their  faults ; 
but  from  doing  so  every  feeling  within  her  shrank; 
she  could  not,  would  not,  dared  not  attempt  it: 
had  she  been  otlierwise  qualified  for  criticism,  her 
conscience  must  have  restrained  her  from  ventur- 
ing at  disapprobation.  She  believed  herself  to 
feel  too  much  of  it  in  the  aggregate  for  honesty  or 
safety  in  particulars.  To  prompt  them  must  be 
enough  for  her;  and  it  was  sometimes  more  than 
enough,  for  she  could  not  always  pay  attention  to 
the  book.  In  watching  them  she  forgot  herself; 
and,  agitated  by  the  increasing  spirit  of  Edmund's 
manner,  had  once  closed  the  page  and  turned  away 
exactly  as  he  wanted  help.  It  was  imputed  to 
very  reasonable  weariness,  and  she  was  thanked 
and  pitied;  but  she  deserved  their  pity  more  than 


224 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


she  hoped  they  would  ever  surmise.  At  last  the 
scene  was  over,  and  Fanny  forced  herself  to  add 
her  praise  to  the  compliments  each  was  giving  the 
other;  and  when  again  alone,  and  able  to  recall 
the  whole,  she  was  inclined  to  believe  their  per- 
formance would,  indeed,  have  such  nature  and 
feeling  in  it  as  must  insure  their  credit,  and  make 
it  a  very  suffering  exhibition  to  herself.  What- 
ever might  be  its  effect,  however,  she  must  stand 
the  brunt  of  it  again  that  very  day. 

The  first  regular  rehearsal  of  the  three  first  acts 
was  certainly  to  take  place  in  the  evening:  Mrs. 
Grant  and  the  Crawfords  were  engaged  to  return 
for  that  purpose  as  soon  as  they  could  after  dinner ; 
and  every  one  concerned  was  looking  forward  with 
eagerness.  There  seemed  a  general  diffusion  of 
cheerfulness  on  the  occasion:  Tom  was  enjoying 
such  an  advance  towards  the  end,  Edmund  was  in 
spirits  from  the  morning's  rehearsal,  and  little 
vexations  seemed  everywhere  smoothed  away.  All 
were  alert  and  impatient;  the  ladies  moved  soon, 
the  gentlemen  soon  followed  them,  and,  with  the 
exception  of  Lady  Bertram,  Mrs.  Norris,  and 
Julia,  everybody  was  in  the  theatre  at  an  early 
hour,  and,  having  lighted  it  up  as  well  as  its 
unfinished  state  admitted,  were  waiting  only  the 
arrival  of  Mrs.  Grant  and  the  Crawfords  to  begin. 

They  did  not  wait  long  for  the  Crawfords,  but 
there  was  no  Mrs.  Grant.  She  could  not  come. 
Dr.  Grant,  professing  an  indisposition,  for  which 
he  had  little  credit  with  his  fair  sister-in-law, 
could  not  spare  his  wife. 

^'Dr.  Grant  is  ill/'  said  she,  with  mock  solem- 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


225 


nity.  He  has  been  ill  ever  since  he  did  not  eat 
any  of  the  pheasant  to-day.  He  fancied  it  tough, 
sent  away  his  plate,  and  has  been  suffering  ever 
since." 

Here  was  disappointment!  Mrs.  Grant's  non- 
attendance  was  sad  indeed.  Her  pleasant  manners 
and  cheerful  conformity  made  her  always  valu- 
able amongst  them;  but  now  she  was  absolutely 
necessary.  They  could  not  act,  they  could  not 
rehearse  with  any  satisfaction  without  her.  The 
comfort  of  the  whole  evening  was  destroyed. 
What  was  to  be  done?  Tom,  as  Cottager,  was  in 
despair.  After  a  pause  of  perplexity,  some  eyes 
began  to  be  turned  towards  Fanny,  and  a  voice  or 
two  to  say,  "  If  Miss  Price  would  be  so  good  as  to 
read  the  part.''  She  was  immediately  surrounded 
by  supplications,  —  everybody  asked  it ;  even  Ed- 
mund said,  ^^Do,  Fanny,  if  it  is  not  very  dis- 
agreeable to  you." 

But  Fanny  still  hung  back.  She  could  not 
endure  the  idea  of  it.  Why  was  not  Miss  Craw- 
ford to  be  applied  to  as  well?  Or  why  had  not  she 
rather  gone  to  her  own  room,  as  she  had  felt  to  be 
safest,  instead  of  attending  the  rehearsal  at  all? 
She  had  known  it  would  irritate  and  distress  her, 
—  she  had  known  it  her  duty  to  keep  away.  She 
was  properly  punished. 

You  have  only  to  read  the  part,"  said  Henry 
Crawford,  with  renewed  entreaty. 

^^And  I  do  believe  she  can  say  every  word  of 
it,"  added  Maria,  ^^for  she  could  put  Mrs.  Grant 
right  the  other  day  in  twenty  places.  Fanny,  I 
am  sure  you  know  the  part." 

VOL.  I.  — 15 


226 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


Fanny  could  not  say  she  did  not;  and  as  they 
all  persevered,  — as  Edmund  repeated  his  wish,  and 
with  a  look  of  even  fond  dependence  on  her  good- 
nature, —  she  must  yield.  She  would  do  her  best. 
Everybody  wa;S  satisfied;  and  she  was  left  to  the 
tremors  of  a  most  palpitating  heart,  while  the 
others  prepared  to  begin. 

They  did  begin;  and  being  too  much  engaged 
in  their  own  noise  to  be  struck  by  an  unusual 
noise  in  the  other  part  of  the  house,  had  proceeded 
some  way,  when  the  door  of  the  room  was  thrown 
open,  and  Julia,  appearing  at  it,  with  a.  face  all 
aghast,  exclaimed,  ^^My  father  is  come!  He  is 
in  the  hall  at  this  moment.'^ 


CHAPTEE  XIX. 


How  is  the  consternation  of  the  party  to  be  de- 
scribed? To  the  greater  number  it  was  a  moment 
of  absolute  horror.  Sir  Thomas  in  the  house! 
All  felt  the  instantaneous  conviction.  Not  a  hope 
of  imposition  or  mistake  was  harbored  anywhere. 
Julia's  looks  were  an  evidence  of  the  fact  that 
made  it  indisputable;  and  after  the  first  starts  and 
exclamations,  not  a  word  was  spoken  for  half  a 
minute;  each  with  an  altered  countenance  was 
looking  at  some  other,  and  almost  each  was  feeling 
it  a  stroke  the  most  unwelcome,  most  ill-timed, 
most  appalling!  Mr.  Yates  might  consider  it 
only  as  a  vexatious  interruption  for  the  evening,  and 
Mr.  E/Ushworth  might  imagine  it  a  blessing;  but 
every  other  heart  was  sinking  under  some  degree 
of  self-condemnation  or  undefined  alarm,  —  every 
other  heart  was  suggesting,  ^^What  will  become 
of  us?  What  is  to  be  done  now?"  It  was  a 
terrible  pause;  and  terrible  to  every  ear  were  the 
corroborating  sounds  of  opening  doors  and  passing 
footsteps. 

Julia  was  the  first  to  move  and  speak  again. 
Jealousy  and  bitterness  had  been  suspended:  self- 
ishness was  lost  in  the  common  cause;  but  at  the 
moment  of  her  appearance,  Frederick  was  listen- 
ing with  looks  of   devotion  to  Agatha's  narra- 


228 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


tive,  and  pressing  her  hand  to  his  heart;  and  as 
soon  as  she  could  notice  this,  and  see  that  in  spite 
of  the  shock  of  her  words,  he  still  kept  his  station 
and  retained  her  sister's  hand,  her  wounded  heart 
swelled  again  with  injury,  and,  looking  as  red  as 
she  had  been  white  before,  she  turned  out  of  the 
room,  saying,  I  need  not  be  afraid  of  appearing 
before  him.^' 

Her  going  roused  the  rest;  and  at  the  same 
moment  the  two  brothers  stepped  forward,  feeling 
the  necessity  of  doing  something.  A  very  few 
words  between  them  were  sufficient.  The  case 
admitted  no  difference  of  opinion;  they  must  go 
to  the  drawing-room  directly.  Maria  joined  them 
with  the  same  intent,  just  then  the  stoutest  of  the 
three ;  for  the  very  circumstance  which  had  driven 
Julia  away  was  to  her  the  sweetest  support. 
Henry  Crawford's  retaining  her  hand  at  such  a 
moment,  a  moment  of  such  peculiar  proof  and  im- 
portance, was  worth  ages  of  doubt  and  anxiety. 
She  hailed  it  as  an  earnest  of  the  most  serious 
determination,  and  was  equal  even  to  encounter 
her  father.  They  walked  off,  utterly  heedless  of 
Mr.  Eushworth's  repeated  question  of,  Shall  I 
go  too?  Had  not  I  better  go  too?  Will  not  it 
be  right  for  me  to  go  too?  "  but  they  were  no 
sooner  through  the  door  than  Henry  Crawford 
undertook  to  answer  the  anxious  inquiry,  and, 
encouraging  him  by  all  means  to  pay  his  respects 
to  Sir  Thomas  without  delay,  sent  him  after  the 
others  with  delighted  haste. 

Fanny  was  left  with  only  the  Crawfords  and  Mr. 
Yates.    She  had  been  quite  overlooked  by  her 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


229 


cousins;  and  as  her  own  opinion  of  lier  claims  on 
Sir  Thomas's  affection  was  much  too  humble  to 
give  her  any  idea  of  classing  herself  with  his 
children,  she  was  glad  to  remain  behind  and  gain 
a  little  breathing-time.  Her  agitation  and  alarm 
exceeded  all  that  was  endured  by  the  rest,  by  the 
right  of  a  disposition  which  not  even  innocence 
could  keep  from  suffering.  She  was  nearly  faint- 
ing; all  her  former  habitual  dread  of  her  uncle  was 
returning,  and  with  it  compassion  for  him  and  for 
almost  every  one  of  the  party  on  the  development 
before  him,  — with  solicitude  on  Edmund's  account 
indescribable.  She  had  found  a  seat,  where  in 
excessive  trembling  she  was  enduring  all  these 
fearful  thoughts,  while  the  other  three,  no  longer 
under  any  restraint,  were  giving  vent  to  their 
feelings  of  vexation,  lamenting  over  such  an 
unlooked-for,  premature  arrival  as  a  most  untoward 
event,  and  without  mercy  wishing  poor  Sir  Thomas 
had  been  twice  as  long  on  his  passage,  or  were 
still  in  Antigua. 

The  Crawfords  were  more  warm  on  the  subject 
than  Mr.  Yates,  from  better  understanding  the 
family,  and  judging  more  clearly  of  the  mischief 
that  must  ensue.  The  ruin  of  the  play  was  to 
them  a  certainty :  they  felt  the  total  destruction  of 
the  scheme  to  be  inevitably  at  hand;  while  Mr. 
Yates  considered  it  only  as  a  temporary  interrup- 
tion, a  disaster  for  the  evening,  and  could  even 
suggest  the  possibility  of  the  rehearsal  being  re- 
newed after  tea,  when  the  bustle  of  receiving  Sir 
Thomas  were  over,  and  he  might  be  at  leisure  to 
be  amused  by  it.    The  Crawfords  laughed  at  the 


230 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


idea;  and  having  soon  agreed  on  the  propriety  of 
their  walking  quietly  home  and  leaving  the  family 
to  themselves,  proposed  Mr.  Yates's  accompanying 
them  and  spending  the  evening  at  the  Parsonage. 
But  Mr.  Yates,  having  never  heen  with  those  who 
thought  much  of  parental  claims  or  family  confi- 
dence, could  not  perceive  that  anything  of  the 
kind  was  necessary ;  and  therefore,  thanking  them, 
said  he  preferred  remaining  where  he  was,  that 
he  might  pay  his  respects  to  the  old  gentleman 
handsomely,  since  he  was  come;  and  besides,  he 
did  not  think  it  would  be  fair  by  the  others  to 
have  everybody  run  away. 

Fanny  was  just  beginning  to  collect  herself,  and 
to  feel  that  if  she  stayed  longer  behind  it  might 
seem  disrespectful,  when  this  point  was  settled, 
and  being  commissioned  with  the  brother  and 
sister's  apology,  saw  them  preparing  to  go,  as  she 
quitted  the  room  herself  to  perform  the  dreadful 
duty  of  appearing  before  her  uncle. 

Too  soon  did  she  find  herself  at  the  drawing- 
room  door;  and  after  pausing  a  moment  for  w^hat 
she  knew  would  not  come,  for  a  courage  which  the 
outside  of  no  door  had  ever  supplied  to  her,  she 
turned  the  lock  in  desperation,  and  the  lights  of 
the  drawing-room  and  all  the  collected  family  were 
before  her.  As  she  entered,  her  own  name  caught 
her  ear. 

Sir  Thomas  was  at  that  moment  looking  round 
him  and  saying,  ^^But  where  is  Fanny?  Why 
do  not  I  see  my  little  Fanny?"  and  on  perceiv- 
ing her,  came  forward  with  a  kindness  which  as- 
tonished and  penetrated  her,  calling  her  his  dear 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


231 


Fanny,  kissing  her  affectionately  and  observing 
with  decided  pleasure  how  much  she  was  grown! 
Fanny  knew  not  how  to  feel,  nor  where  to  look. 
She  was  quite  oppressed.  He  had  never  been  so 
kind,  so  very  kind  to  her  in  his  life.  His  manner 
seemed  changed;  his  voice  was  quick  from  the 
agitation  of  joy,  and  all  that  had  been  awful  in 
his  dignity  seemed  lost  in  tenderness.  He  led  her 
nearer  the  light,  and  looked  at  her  again,  —  in- 
quired particularly  after  her  health,  and  then,  cor- 
recting himself,  observed  that  he  need  not  inquire, 
for  her  appearance  spoke  sufficiently  on  that  point. 
A  fine  blush  having  succeeded  the  previous  pale- 
ness of  her  face,  he  was  justified  in  his  belief  of 
her  equal  improvement  in  health  and  beauty.  He 
inquired  next  after  her  family,  especially  William; 
and  his  kindness  altogether  was  such  as  made  her 
reproach  herself  for  loving  him  so  little,  and  think- 
ing his  return  a  misfortune;  and  when  on  having 
courage  to  lift  her  eyes  to  his  face,  she  saw  that  he 
was  grown  thinner,  and  had  the  burnt,  fagged, 
worn  look  of  fatigue  and  a  hot  climate,  every 
tender  feeling  was  increased,  and  she  was  miser- 
able in  considering  how  much  unsuspected  vexation 
was  probably  ready  to  burst  on  him. 

Sir  Thomas  was  indeed  the  life  of  the  party, 
who  at  his  suggestion  now  seated  themselves 
round  the  fire.  He  had  the  best  right  to  be  the 
talker;  and  the  delight  of  his  sensations  in  being 
again  in  his  own  house,  in  the  centre  of  his  family, 
after  such  a  separation,  made  him  communicative 
and  chatty  in  a  verj^  unusual  degree ;  and  he  was 
ready  to  give  every  information  as  to  his  voyage. 


232 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


and  answer  every  question  of  his  two  sons  almost 
before  it  was  put.  His  business  in  Antigua  had 
latterly  been  prosperously  rapid,  and  he  came 
directly  from  Liverpool,  having  had  an  opportu- 
nity of  making  his  passage  thither  in  a  private 
vessel,  instead  of  waiting  for  the  packet;  and  all 
the  little  particulars  of  his  proceedings  and  events, 
his  arrivals  and  departures,  were  most  promptly 
delivered,  as  he  sat  by  Lady  Bertram  and  looked 
with  heartfelt  satisfaction  on  the  faces  around  him, 
—  interrupting  himself  more  than  once,  however, 
to  remark  on  his  good  fortune  in  finding  them  all 
at  home, — coming  unexpectedly  as  he  did,  —  all 
collected  together  exactly  as  he  could  have  wished, 
but  dared  not  depend  on.  Mr.  Kushworth  was  not 
forgotten;  a  most  friendly  reception  and  warmth 
of  hand-shaking  had  already  met  him,  and  with 
pointed  attention  he  was  now  included  in  the  ob- 
jects most  intimately  connected  with  Mansfield. 
There  was  nothing  disagreeable  in  Mr.  Rush- 
worth's  appearance,  and  Sir  Thomas  was  liking 
him  already. 

By  not  one  of  the  circle  was  he  listened  to  with 
such  unbroken,  unalloyed  enjoyment  as  by  his 
wife,  who  was  really  extremely  happy  to  see  him, 
and  whose  feelings  were  so  warmed  by  his  sudden 
arrival  as  to  place  her  nearer  agitation  than  she 
had  been  for  the  last  twenty  years.  She  had  been 
almost  fluttered  for  a  few  minutes,  and  still  re- 
mained so  sensibly  animated  as  to  put  away  her 
work,  move  pug  from  her  side,  and  give  all  her 
attention  and  all  the  rest  of  her  sofa  to  her  hus- 
band.   She  had  no  anxieties  for  anybody  to  cloud 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


233 


ter  pleasure:  her  own  time  had  been  irreproach- 
ably spent  during  his  absence;  she  had  done  a 
great  deal  of  carpet  work,  and  made  many  yards  of 
fringe;  and  she  would  have  answered  as  freely  for 
the  good  conduct  and  useful  pursuits  of  all  the 
young  people  as  for  her  own.  It  was  so  agreeable 
to  her  to  see  him  again  and  hear  him  talk,  to  have 
her  ear  amused  and  her  whole  comprehension 
filled  by  his  narratives,  that  she  began  particu- 
larly to  feel  how  dreadfully  she  must  have  missed 
him,  and  how  impossible  it  would  have  been  for 
her  to  bear  a  lengthened  absence. 

Mrs.  Korris  was  by  no  means  to  be  compared  in 
happiness  to  her  sister.  Not  that  she  was  incom- 
moded by  many  fears  of  Sir  Thomases  disapproba- 
tion when  the  present  state  of  his  house  should  be 
known,  for  her  judgment  had  been  so  blinded  that 
except  by  the  instinctive  caution  with  which  she 
had  whisked  away  Mr.  Eushworth's  pink  satin 
cloak  as  her  brother-in-law  entered,  she  could 
hardly  be  said  to  show  any  sign  of  alarm;  but  she 
was  vexed  by  the  manner  of  his  return.  It  had 
left  her  nothing  to  do.  Instead  of  being  sent  for 
out  of  the  room,  and  seeing  him  first,  and  having 
to  spread  the  happy  news  through  the  house.  Sir 
Thomas,  with  a  very  reasonable  dependence,  per- 
haps, on  the  nerves  of  his  wife  ,and  children,  had 
sought  no  confidant  but  the  butler,  and  had  been 
following  him  almost  instantaneously  into  the 
drawing-room.  Mrs.  ISTorris  felt  herself  defrauded 
of  an  ofiice  on  which  she  had  always  depended, 
whether  his  arrival  or  his  death  were  to  be  the 
thing  unfolded;  and  was  now  trying  to  be  in  9 


234 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


bustle  without  having  anything  to  hustle  ahout, 
and  lahoring  to  he  important  where  nothing  was 
wanted  hut  tranquillity  and  silence.  Would  Sir 
Thomas  have  consented  to  eat,  she  might  have 
gone  to  the  housekeeper  with  trouhlesome  direc- 
tions, and  insulted  the  footmen  with  injunctions 
of  despatch;  hut  Sir  Thomas  resolutely  declined 
all  dinner :  he  would  take  nothing,  nothing  till  tea 
came,  —  he  would  rather  wait  for  tea.  Still  Mrs. 
Norris  was  at  intervals  urging  something  differ- 
ent; and  in  the  most  interesting  moment  of  his 
passage  to  England,  when  the  alarm  of  a  French 
privateer  was  at  the  height,  she  hurst  through  his 
recital  with  the  proposal  of  soup.  ^^Sure,  my 
dear  Sir  Thomas,  a  basin  of  soup  would  he  a  much 
better  thing  for  you  than  tea.  Do  have  a  basin  of 
soup.'^ 

Sir  Thomas  could  not  be  provoked.  Still  the 
same  anxiety  for  everybody's  comfort,  my  dear 
Mrs.  I^orris,''  was  his  answer.  ^^But  indeed  I 
would  rather  have  nothing  but  tea.'' 

^^Well,  then,  Lady  Bertram,  suppose  you  speak 
for  tea  directly;  suppose  you  hurry  Baddeley  a  lit- 
tle; he  seems  behindhand  to-night."  She  carried 
this  point,  and  Sir  Thomas's  narrative  proceeded. 

At  length  there  was  a  pause.  His  immediate 
communications  were  exhausted,  and  it  seemed 
enough  to  be  looking  joyfully  around  him,  now  at 
one,  now  at  another  of  the  beloved  circle.  But  the 
pause  was  not  long :  in  the  elation  of  her  spirits. 
Lady  Bertram  became  talkative ;  and  what  were  the 
sensations  of  her  children  upon  hearing  her  say : 

How  do  you  think  the  young  people  have  been 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


235 


amusing  themselves  lately,  Sir  Thomas?  They 
have  been  acting.  We  have  been  all  alive  with 
acting.'' 

Indeed!  and  what  have  you  been  acting?  '' 
Oh,  they  '11  tell  you  all  about  it." 
^^The  all  will  be  soon  told/'  cried  Tom,  hastily 
and  with  affected  unconcern ;  ^ '  but  it  is  not  worth 
while  to  bore  my  father  with  it  now.  You  will 
hear  enough  of  it  to-morrow,  sir.  We  have  just 
been  trying,  by  way  of  doing  something  and 
amusing  my  mother,  just  within  the  last  week,  to 
get  up  a  few  scenes,  —  a  mere  trifle.  We  have  had 
such  incessant  rains  almost  since  October  began, 
that  we  have  been  nearly  confined  to  the  house  for 
days  together.  I  have  hardly  taken  out  a  gun 
since  the  3d.  Tolerable  sport  the  first  three 
days,  but  there  has  been  no  attempting  anything 
since.  The  first  day  I  went  over  Mansfield 
Wood,  and  Edmund  took  the  copses  beyond  Easton, 
and  we  brought  home  six  brace  between  us,  and 
might  each  have  killed  six  times  as  many;  but  we 
respect  your  pheasants,  sir,  I  assure  you,  as  much 
as  you  could  desire.  I  do  not  think  you  will  find 
your  woods  by  any  means  worse  stocked  than  they 
were.  I  never  saw  Mansfield  Wood  so  full  of 
pheasants  in  my  life  as  this  year.  I  hope  you  will 
take  a  day's  sport  there  yourself,  sir,  soon." 

Eor  the  present  the  danger  was  over,  and  Fanny's 
sick  feelings  subsided;  but  when  tea  was  soon 
afterwards  brought  in,  and  Sir  Thomas,  getting 
up,  said  that  he  found  he  could  not  be  any  longer 
in  the  house  without  just  looking  into  his  own  dear 
room,  every  agitation  was  returning.    He  was  gone 


236 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


before  anything  had  been  said  to  prepare  him  for 
the  change  he  must  find  there;  and  a  pause  of 
alarm  followed  his  disappearance.  Edmund  was 
the  first  to  speak. 

Something  must  be  done,"  said  he. 

^'  It  is  time  to  think  of  our  visitors,"  said  Maria, 
still  feeling  her  hand  pressed  to  Henry  Crawford's 
heart,  and  caring  little  for  anything  else.  Where 
did  you  leave  Miss  Crawford,  Fanny?  " 

Fanny  told  of  their  departure,  and  delivered 
their  message. 

^^Then  poor  Yates  is  all  alone,"  cried  Tom.  ^^I 
will  go  and  fetch  him.  He  will  be  no  bad  assist- 
ant when  it  all  comes  out." 

To  the  theatre  he  went,  and  reached  it  just  in 
time  to  witness  the  first  meeting  of  his  father  and 
his  friend.  Sir  Thomas  had  been  a  good  deal  sur- 
prised to  find  candles  burning  in  his  room;  and 
on  casting  his  eye  round  it,  to  see  other  symptoms 
of  recent  habitation,  and  a  general  air  of  confusion 
in  the  furniture.  The  removal  of  the  bookcase 
from  before  the  billiard-room  door  struck  him  es- 
pecially; but  he  had  scarcely  more  than  time  to 
feel  astonished  at  all  this,  before  there  were  sounds 
from  the  billiard-room  to  astonish  him  still  further. 
Some  one  was  talking  there  in  a  very  loud  accent, 
—  he  did  not  know  the  voice,  — more  than  talking, 
almost  hallooing.  He  stepped  to  the  door,  re- 
joicing at  that  moment  in  having  the  means  of 
immediate  communication,  and  opening  it,  found 
himself  on  the  stage  of  the  theatre,  and  opposed  to 
a  ranting  young  man,  who  appeared  likely  to  knock 
him  down  backwards.    At  the  very  moment  of 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


237 


Yates  perceiving  Sir  Thomas,  and  giving  perhaps 
the  very  best  start  he  had  ever  given  in  the  whole 
course  of  his  rehearsals,  Tom  Bertram  entered  at 
the  other  end  of  the  room;  and  never  had  he  found 
greater  difficulty  in  keeping  his  countenance.  His 
father's  looks  of  solemnity  and  amazement  on  this 
his  first  appearance  on  any  stage,  and  the  gradual 
metamorphosis  of  the  impassioned  Baron  Wilden- 
heim  into  the  well-bred  and  easy  Mr.  Yates,  mak- 
ing his  bow  and  apology  to  Sir  Thomas  Bertram, 
was  such  an  exhibition,  such  a  piece  of  true  acting 
as  he  would  not  have  lost  upon  any  account.  It 
would  be  the  last,  —  in  all  probability  the  last 
scene  on  that  stage;  but  he  was  sure  there  could 
not  be  a  finer.  The  house  would  close  with  the 
greatest  eclat. 

There  was  little  time,  however,  for  the  indul- 
gence of  any  images  of  merriment.  It  was  neces- 
sary for  him  to  step  forward,  too,  and  assist  the 
introduction;  and  with  many  awkward  sensations, 
he  did  his  best.  Sir  Thomas  received  Mr.  Yates 
with  all  the  appearance  of  cordiality  which  was  due 
to  his  own  character,  but  was  really  as  far  from 
pleased  with  the  necessity  of  the  acquaintance  as 
with  the  manner  of  its  commencement.  Mr. 
Yates's  family  and  connections  were  sufficiently 
known  to  him  to  render  his  introduction  as  the 

particular  friend,"  another  of  the  hundred  par- 
ticular friends  of  his  son,  exceedingly  unwelcome; 
and  it  needed  all  the  felicity  of  being  again  at 
home,  and  all  the  forbearance  it  could  supply,  to 
save  Sir  Thomas  from  anger  on  finding  himself 
thus  bewildered  in  his  own  house,  making  part  of  a 


238 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


ridiculous  exhibition  in  the  midst  of  theatrical  non- 
sense, and  forced  in  so  untoward  a  moment  to  admit 
the  acquaintance  of  a  young  man  whom  he  felt  sure 
of  disapproving,  and  whose  easy  indifference  and 
volubility  in  the  course  of  the  first  five  minutes 
seemed  to  mark  him  the  more  at  home  of  the  two. 

Tom  understood  his  father's  thoughts,  and 
heartily  wishing  he  might  be  always  as  well  dis- 
posed to  give  them  but  partial  expression,  began  to 
see  more  clearly  than  he  had  ever  done  before,  that 
there  might  be  some  ground  of  offence,  —  that  there 
might  be  some  reason  for  the  glance  his  father  gave 
towards  the  ceiling  and  stucco  of  the  room;  and 
that  when  he  inquired  with  mild  gravity  after  the 
fate  of  the  billiard-table,  he  was  not  proceeding  be- 
yond a  very  allowable  curiosity.  A  few  minutes 
were  enough  for  such  unsatisfactory  sensations  on 
each  side;  and  Sir  Thomas,  having  exerted  him- 
self so  far  as  to  speak  a  few  words  of  calm  appro- 
bation, in  reply  to  an  eager  appeal  of  Mr.  Yates,  as 
to  the  happiness  of  the  arrangement,  the  three  gen- 
tlemen returned  to  the  drawing-room  together.  Sir 
Thomas  with  an  increase  of  gravity  which  was  not 
lost  on  all. 

^^I  come  from  your  theatre,"  said  he,  com- 
posedly, as  he  sat  down;  ^^I  found  myself  in  it 
rather  unexpectedly.  Its  vicinity  to  my  own  room 
—  but  in  every  respect,  indeed,  it  took  me  by  sur- 
prise, as  I  had  not  the  smallest  suspicion  of  your 
acting  having  assumed  so  serious  a  character.  It 
appears  a  neat  job,  however,  as  far  as  I  could  judge 
by  candle-light,  and  does  my  friend  Christopher 
Jackson  credit.''    And  then  he  would  have  changed 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


239 


the  subject,  and  sipped  his  coffee  in  peace  over  do- 
mestic matters  of  a  calmer  hue;  but  Mr.  Yates, 
without  discernment  to  catch  Sir  Thomas's  mean- 
ing, or  diffidence,  or  delicacy,  or  discretion  enough 
to  allow  him  to  lead  the  discourse  while  he  min- 
gled among  the  others  with  the  least  obtrusiveness 
himself,  would  keep  him  on  the  topic  of  the  theatre, 
would  torment  him  with  questions  and  remarks 
relative  to  it,  and  finally  would  make  him  hear  the 
whole  history  of  his  disappointment  at  Ecclesford. 
Sir  Thomas  listened  most  politely,  but  found  much 
to  offend  his  ideas  of  decorum,  and  confirm  his  ill 
opinion  of  Mr.  Yates's  habits  of  thinking,  from 
the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  story;  and  when  it 
was  over,  could  give  him  no  other  assurance  of 
sympathy  than  what  a  slight  bow  conveyed. 

^^This  was,  in  fact,  the  origin  of  our  acting," 
said  Tom,  after  a  moment's  thought.  My  friend 
Yates  brought  the  infection  from  Ecclesford,  and 
it  spread  —  as  those  things  always  spread,  you 
know,  sir  —  the  faster,  probably,  from  your  having 
so  often  encouraged  the  sort  of  thing  in  us  for- 
merly.   It  was  like  treading  old  ground  again." 

Mr.  Yates  took  the  subject  from  his  friend  as 
soon  as  possible,  and  immediately  gave  Sir 
Thomas  an  account  of  what  they  had  done  and 
were  doing;  told  him  of  the  gradual  increase  of 
their  views,  the  happy  conclusion  of  their  first  dif- 
ficulties, and  present  promising  state  of  affairs; 
relating  everything  with  so  blind  an  interest  as 
made  him  not  only  totally  unconscious  of  the 
uneasy  movements  of  many  of  his  friends  as 
they  sat,  the  change  of  countenance,  the  fidget, 


240 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


the  hem !  of  unquietness,  but  prevented  him  even 
from  seeing  the  expression  of  the  face  on  which  his 
own  eyes  were  fixed,  —  from  seeing  Sir  Thomas's 
dark  brow  contract  as  he  looked  with  inquiring 
earnestness  at  his  daughters  and  Edmund,  dwell- 
ing particularly  on  the  latter,  and  speaking  a 
language,  a  remonstrance,  a  reproof  which  he  felt 
at  his  heart.  Not  less  acutely  was  it  felt  by 
Fanny,  who  had  edged  back  her  chair  behind  her 
aunt's  end  of  the  sofa,  and,  screened  from  notice 
herself,  saw  all  that  was  passing  before  her.  Such 
a  look  of  reproach  at  Edmund  from  his  father  she 
could  never  have  expected  to  witness;  and  to  feel 
that  it  was  in  any  degree  deserved  was  an  aggra- 
vation indeed.  Sir  Thomas's  look  implied,  ^^On 
your  judgment,  Edmund,  I  depended;  what  have 
you  been  about?''  She  knelt  in  spirit  to  her 
uncle,  and  her  bosom  swelled  to  utter,  ^^Oh,  not 
to  him!  Look  so  to  all  the  others,  but  not  to 
him!" 

Mr.  Yates  was  still  talking.  ^^To  own  the 
truth.  Sir  Thomas,  we  were  in  the  middle  of  a 
rehearsal  when  you  arrived  this  evening.  We 
were  going  through  the  three  first  acts,  and  not 
unsuccessfully  upon  the  whole.  Our  company  is 
now  so  dispersed,  from  the  Crawfords  being  gone 
home,  that  nothing  more  can  be  done  to-night; 
but  if  you  will  give  us  the  honor  of  your  company 
to-morrow  evening,  I  should  not  be  afraid  of  the 
result.  We  bespeak  your  indulgence,  you  under- 
stand, as  young  performers;  we  bespeak  your 
indulgence." 

^*My  indulgence  shall  be  given,  sir,"  replied 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


241 


Sir  Thomas,  gravely,  ^^but  without  any  other  re- 
hearsal.^' And  with  a  relenting  smile  he  added, 
come  home  to  be  happy  and  indulgent.'' 
Then  turning  away  towards  any  or  all  of  the  rest, 
he  tranquilly  said:  ^^Mr.  and  Miss  Crawford  were 
mentioned  in  my  last  letters  from  Mansfield.  Do 
you  find  them  agreeable  acquaintance?" 

Tom  was  the  only  one  at  all  ready  with  an  an- 
swer; but  he,  being  entirely  without  particular  re- 
gard for  either,  without  jealousy  either  in  love 
or  acting,  could  speak  very  handsomely  of  both. 
'^Mr.  Crawford  was  a  most  pleasant,  gentleman- 
like man;  his  sister  a  sweet,  pretty,  elegant, 
lively  girl." 

Mr.  Rushworth  could  be  silent  no  longer.  ^^I 
do  not  say  he  is  not  gentlemanlike,  considering; 
but  you  should  tell  your  father  he  is  not  above 
five  feet  eight,  or  he  will  be  expecting  a  well- 
looking  man." 

Sir  Thomas  did  not  quite  understand  this,  and 
looked  with  some  surprise  at  the  speaker. 

^^If  I  must  say  what  I  think,"  continued  Mr. 
Rushworth,  ^^in  my  opinion  it  is  very  disagree- 
able to  be  always  rehearsing.  It  is  having  too 
much  of  a  good  thing.  I  am  not  so  fond  of  act- 
ing as  I  was  at  first.  I  think  we  are  a  great  deal 
better  employed,  sitting  comfortably  here  among 
ourselves,  and  doing  nothing." 

Sir  Thomas  looked  again,  and  then  replied  with 
an  approving  smile :  ''1  am  happy  to  find  our  sen- 
timents on  this  subject  so  much  the  same.  It 
gives  me  sincere  satisfaction.  That  I  should  be 
cautious  and  quick-sighted,  and  feel  many  scriv 

VOL.  I.  —  16 


242 


MANSFIELD  PAEK. 


pies  which  my  children  do  not  feel,  is  perfectly 
natural ;  and  equally  so  that  my  value  for  domes- 
tic tranquillity,  for  a  home  which  shuts  out  noisy 
pleasures,  should  much  exceed  theirs.  But  at 
your  time  of  life  to  feel  all  this  is  a  most  favor- 
able circumstance  for  yourself  and  for  everybody 
connected  with  you;  and  I  am  sensible  of  the  im- 
portance of  having  an  ally  of  such  weight.'' 

Sir  Thomas  meant  to  be  giving  Mr.  Eush- 
worth's  opinion  in  better  words  than  he  could 
find  himself.  He  was  aware  that  he  must  not 
expect  a  genius  in  Mr.  Eushworth;  but  as  a 
well-judging,  steady  young  man,  with  better  no- 
tions than  his  elocution  would  do  justice  to,  he 
intended  to  value  him  very  highly.  It  was  im- 
possible for  many  of  the  others  not  to  smile. 
Mr.  Eush worth  hardly  knew  what  to  do  with  so 
much  meaning;  but  by  looking,  as  he  really  felt, 
most  exceedingly  pleased  with  Sir  Thomas's  good 
opinion,  and  saying  scarcely  anything,  he  did  his 
best  towards  preserving  that  good  opinion  a  little 
longer. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


Edmund's  first  object  the  next  morning  was  to  see 
his  father  alone,  and  give  him  a  fair  statement  of 
the  whole  acting  scheme,  defending  his  own  share 
in  it  as  far  only  as  he  could  then  in  a  soberer  mo- 
ment feel  his  motives  to  deserve,  and  acknowledg- 
ing, with  perfect  ingenuousness,  that  his  concession 
had  been  attended  with  such  partial  good  as  to 
make  his  judgment  in  it  very  doubtful.  He  was 
anxious  while  vindicating  himself  to  say  nothing 
unkind  of  the  others;  but  there  was  only  one 
amongst  them  whose  conduct  he  could  mention 
without  some  necessity  of  defence  or  palliation. 
^^We  have  all  been  more  or  less  to  blame,"  said 
he,  every  one  of  us  excepting  Fanny.  Eanny  is 
the  only  one  who  has  judged  rightly  throughout, 
who  has  been  consistent.  Her  feelings  have  been 
steadily  against  it  from  first  to  last.  She  never 
ceased  to  think  of  what  was  due  to  you.  You  will 
find  Eanny  everything  you  could  wish.'' 

Sir  Thomas  saw  all  the  impropriety  of  such  a 
scheme  among  such  a  party  and  at  such  a  time  as 
strongly  as  his  son  had  ever  supposed  he  must;  he 
felt  it  too  much,  indeed,  for  many  words;  and 
having  shaken  hands  with  Edmund,  meant  to  try 
to  lose  the  disagreeable  impression,  and  forget  how 
much  he  had  been  forgotten  himself  as  soon  as  he 


244 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


could,  after  the  house  had  been  cleared  of  every 
object  enforcing  the  remembrance,  and  restored  to 
its  proper  state.  He  did  not  enter  into  any  re- 
monstrance with  his  other  children:  he  was  more 
willing  to  believe  they  felt  their  error,  than  to  run 
the  risk  of  investigation.  The  reproof  of  an  im- 
mediate conclusion  of  everything,  the  sweep  of 
every  preparation  would  be  sufficient. 

There  was  one  person,  however,  in  the  house  whom 
he  could  not  leave  to  learn  his  sentiments  merely 
through  his  conduct.  He  could  not  help  merely 
giving  Mrs.  Norris  a  hint  of  his  having  hoped 
that  her  advice  might  have  been  interposed  to 
prevent  what  her  judgment  must  certainly  have 
disapproved.  The  young  people  had  been  very 
inconsiderate  in  forming  the  plan;  they  ought  to 
have  been  capable  of  a  better  decision  themselves ; 
but  they  were  young,  and,  excepting  Edmund,  he 
believed,  of  unsteady  characters ;  and  with  greater 
surprise,  therefore,  he  must  regard  her  acquies- 
cence in  their  wrong  measures,  her  countenance  of 
their  unsafe  amusements,  than  that  such  measures 
and  such  amusements  should  have  been  suggested. 
Mrs.  Norris  was  a  little  confounded,  and  as  nearly 
being  silenced  as  ever  she  had  been  in  her  life; 
for  she  was  ashamed  to  confess  having  never  seen 
any  of  the  impropriety  which  was  so  glaring  to 
Sir  Thomas,  and  would  not  have  admitted  that  her 
influence  was  insufficient,  — that  she  might  have 
talked  in  vain.  Her  only  resource  was  to  get  out 
of  the  subject  as  fast  as  possible,  and  turn  the 
current  of  Sir  Thomas's  ideas  into  a  happier  chan- 
nel.   She  had  a  great  deal  to  insinuate  in  her  own 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


245 


praise  as  to  general  attention  to  tlie  interest  and 
comfort  of  his  family,  much  exertion  and  many 
sacrifices  to  glance  at  in  the  form  of  hurried  walks 
and  sudden  removals  from  her  own  fireside,  and 
many  excellent  hints  of  distrust  and  economy  to 
Lady  Bertram  and  Edmund  to  detail,  whereby 
a  most  considerable  saving  had  always  arisen, 
and  more  than  one  bad  servant  been  detected. 
But  her  chief  strength  lay  in  Sotherton.  Her 
greatest  support  and  glory  was  in  having  formed 
the  connection  with  the  Kushworths.  There  she 
was  impregnable.  She  took  to  herself  all  the 
credit  of  bringing  Mr.  Eushworth's  admiration  of 
Maria  to  any  effect.  ^^If  I  had  not  been  active,'' 
said  she,  ^^and  made  a  point  of  being  introduced 
to  his  mother,  and  then  prevailed  on  my  sister  to 
pay  the  first  visit,  I  am  as  certain  as  I  sit  here 
that  nothing  would  have  come  of  it, — for  Mr, 
Eushworth  is  the  sort  of  amiable  modest  young 
man  who  wants  a  great  deal  of  encouragement,  and 
there  were  girls  enough  on  the  catch  for  him  if  we 
had  been  idle.  But  I  left  no  stone  unturned.  I 
was  ready  to  move  heaven  and  earth  to  persuade 
my  sister,  and  at  last  I  did  persuade  her.  You 
know  the  distance  to  Sotherton;  it  was  in  the 
middle  of  winter,  and  the  roads  almost  impassable, 
but  I  did  persuade  her.'' 

' '  I  know  how  great,  how  justly  great  your  in- 
fluence is  with  Lady  Bertram  and  her  children, 
and  am  the  more  concerned  that  it  should  not  have 
been  —  " 

^^My  dear  Sir  Thomas,  if  you  had  seen  the  state 
of  the  roads  that  day!    I  thought  we  should  never- 


246 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


have  got  througli  tliem,  thougli  we  had  the  foui? 
horses  of  course;  and  poor  old  coachman  would 
attend  us^  out  of  his  great  love  and  kindness, 
though  he  was  hardly  able  to  sit  the  box  on 
account  of  the  rheumatism  which  I  had  been  doc- 
toring him  for  ever  since  Michaelmas.  I  cured  him 
at  last;  but  he  was  very  bad  all  the  winter,  — and 
this  was  such  a  day,  I  could  not  help  going  to  him 
up  in  his  room  before  we  set  off  to  advise  him  not 
to  venture:  he  was  putting  on  his  wig;  so  I  said, 
'  Coachman,  you  had  much  better  not  go,  your  Lady 
and  I  shall  be  very  safe;  you  know  how  steady 
Stephen  is,  and  Charles  has  been  upon  the  leaders 
so  often  now  that  I  am  sure  there  is  no  fear.  ^  But, 
however,  I  soon  found  it  would  not  do:  he  was 
bent  upon  going,  and  as  I  hate  to  be  worrying 
and  officious,  I  said  no  more ;  but  my  heart  quite 
ached  for  him  at  every  jolt,  and  when  we  got  into 
the  rough  lanes  about  Stoke,  where  what  with 
frost  and  snow  upon  beds  of  stones,  it  was  worse 
than  anything  you  can  imagine,  I  was  quite  in  an 
agony  about  him.  And  then  the  poor  horses  too! 
To  see  them  straining  away!  You  know  how  I 
always  feel  for  the  horses.  And  when  we  got  to 
the  bottom  of  Sandcroft  Hill,  what  do  you  think  I 
did?  You  w^ill  laugh  at  me,  —  but  I  got  out  and 
walked  up.  I  did,  indeed.  It  might  not  be  saving 
them  much,  but  it  was  something,  and  I  could  not 
bear  to  sit  at  my  ease,  and  be  dragged  up  at  the 
expense  of  those  noble  animals.  I  caught  a  dread- 
ful cold,  but  that  I  did  not  regard.  My  object 
was  accomplished  in  the  visit." 

^^I  hope  we  shall  always  think  the  acquaintance 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


247 


worth  any  trouble  that  might  be  taken  to  establish 
it.  There  is  nothing  very  striking  in  Mr.  Rush- 
worth's  manners,  but  I  was  pleased  last  night 
with  what  appeared  to  be  his  opinion  on  one  sub- 
ject, —  his  decided  preference  of  a  quiet  family- 
party  to  the  bustle  and  confusion  of  acting.  He 
seemed  to  feel  exactly  as  one  could  wish." 

^^Yes,  indeed,  and  the  more  you  know  of  him 
the  better  you  will  like  him.  He  is  not  a  shining 
character,  but  he  has  a  thousand  good  qualities; 
and  is  so  disposed  to  look  up  to  you,  that  I  am 
quite  laughed  at  about  it,  for  everybody  considers 
it  as  my  doing.  ^  Upon  my  word,  Mrs.  l!^orris,' 
said  Mrs.  Grant  the  other  day,  '  if  Mr.  Rushworth 
were  a  son  of  your  own,  he  could  not  hold  Sir 
Thomas  in  greater  respect.'  '' 

Sir  Thomas  gave  up  the  point,  foiled  by  her 
evasions,  disarmed  by  her  flattery;  and  was  obliged 
to  rest  satisfied  with  the  conviction  that  where 
the  present  pleasure  of  those  she  loved  was  at 
stake  her  kindness  did  sometimes  overpower  her 
judgment. 

It  was  a  busy  morning  with  him.  Conversation 
with  any  of  them  occupied  but  a  small  part  of  it. 
He  had  to  reinstate  himself  in  all  the  wonted  con- 
cerns of  his  Mansfield  life,  to  see  his  steward  and 
his  bailiff,  — to  examine  and  compute,  — and  in 
the  intervals  of  business,  to  walk  into  his  stables 
and  his  gardens  and  nearest  plantations;  but 
active  and  methodical,  he  had  not  only  done  all 
this  before  he  resumed  his  seat  as  master  of  the 
house  at  dinner,  he  had  also  set  the  carpenter  to 
ivork  in  pulling  down  what  had  been  so  lately  put 


248 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


up  in  the  billiard-room,  and  given  the  scene- 
painter  his  dismissal  long  enough  to  justify  the 
pleasing  belief  of  his  being  then  at  least  as  far  off 
as  Northampton.  The  scene-painter  was  gone, 
having  spoiled  only  the  floor  of  one  room,  ruined 
all  the  coachman's  sponges,  and  made  five  of 
the  vmder-servants  idle  and  dissatisfied;  and  Sir 
Thomas  was  in  hopes  that  another  day  or  two 
would  suffice  to  wipe  away  every  outward  memento 
of  what  had  been,  even  to  the  destruction  of  every 
unbound  copy  of  Lovers'  Vows  in  the  house,  for 
he  was  burning  all  that  met  his  eye. 

Mr.  Yates  was  beginning  now  to  understand  Sir 
Thomas's  intentions,  though  as  far  as  ever  from 
understanding  their  source.  He  and  his  friend 
had  been  out  with  their  guns  the  chief  of  the 
morning,  and  Tom  had  taken  the  opportunity  of 
explaining,  with  proper  apologies  for  his  father's 
particularity,  what  was  to  be  expected.  Mr. 
Yates  felt  it  as  acutely  as  might  be  supposed. 
To  be  a  second  time  disappointed  in  the  same  way 
was  an  instance  of  very  severe  ill-luck;  and  his 
indignation  was  such  that  had  it  not  been  for 
delicacy  towards  his  friend  and  his  friend's  young- 
est sister,  he  believed  he  should  certainly  attack 
the  Baronet  on  the  absurdity  of  his  proceedings,  and 
argue  him  into  a  little  more  rationality.  He  be- 
lieved this  very  stoutly  while  he  was  in  Mansfield 
Wood,  and  all  the  way  home;  but  there  was  a 
something  in  Sir  Thomas,  when  they  sat  round 
the  same  table,  which  made  Mr.  Yates  think  it 
wiser  to  let  him  pursue  his  own  way,  and  feel  the 
folly  of  it  without  opposition.    He  had  known 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


249 


many  disagreeable  fathers  before,  and  often  been 
struck  with  the  inconveniences  they  occasioned  5 
but  never  in  the  whole  course  of  his  life,  had  he 
seen  one  of  that  class  so  unintelligibly  moral,  so 
infamously  tyrannical  as  Sir  Thomas.  He  was 
not  a  man  to  be  endured  but  for  his  children's 
sake,  and  he  might  be  thankful  to  his  fair  daugh- 
ter Julia  that  Mr.  Yates  did  yet  mean  to  stay  a 
few  days  longer  under  his  roof. 

The  evening  passed  with  external  smoothness, 
though  almost  every  mind  was  ruffled;  and  the 
music  which  Sir  Thomas  called  for  from  his  daugh- 
ters helped  to  conceal  the  want  of  real  harmony. 
Maria  was  in  a  good  deal  of  agitation.  It  was  of 
the  utmost  consequence  to  her  that  Crawford 
should  now  lose  no  time  in  declaring  himself,  and 
she  was  disturbed  that  even  a  day  should  be  gone 
by  without  seeming  to  advance  that  point.  She 
had  been  expecting  to  see  him  the  whole  morning, 
—  and  all  the  evening,  too,  was  still  expecting 
him.  Mr.  Rushworth  had  set  off  early  with  the 
great  news  for  Sotherton;  and  she  had  fondly 
hoped  for  such  an  immediate  eclaircissement  as 
might  save  him  the  trouble  of  ever  coming  back 
again.  But  they  had  seen  no  one  from  the  Parson- 
age, —  not  a  creature,  —  and  had  heard  no  tidings 
beyond  a  friendly  note  of  congratulation  and  in- 
quiry from  Mrs.  Grant  to  Lady  Bertram.  It  was 
the  first  day,  for  many,  many  weeks,  in  which  the 
families  had  been  wholly  divided.  Four-and- 
twenty  hours  had  never  passed  before,  since 
August  began,  without  bringing  them  together 
in  some  way  or  other.    It  was  a  sad,  anxious  day,* 


250 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


and  the  morrow,  though  differing  in  the  sort  of 
evil,  did  by  no  means  bring  less.  A  few  moments 
of  feverish  enjoyment  were  followed  by  hours  of 
acute  suffering.  Henry  Crawford  was  again  in 
the  house :  he  walked  up  with  Dr.  Grant,  who  was 
anxious  to  pay  his  respects  to  Sir  Thomas;  and  at 
rather  an  early  hour  they  were  ushered  into  the 
breakfast-room,  where  were  most  of  the  family. 
Sir  Thomas  soon  appeared,  and  Maria  saw  with 
delight  and  agitation  the  introduction  of  the  man 
she  loved  to  her  father.  Her  sensations  were  in- 
definable, and  so  were  they  a  few  minutes  after- 
wards upon  hearing  Henry  Crawford,  who  had  a 
chair  between  herself  and  Tom,  ask  the  latter  in 
an  under  voice,  whether  there  were  any  plan  for 
resuming  the  play  after  the  present  happy  inter- 
ruption (with  a  courteous  glance  at  Sir  Thomas), 
because  in  that  case  he  should  make  a  point  of 
returning  to  Mansfield  at  any  time  required  by  the 
party:  he  was  going  away  immediately,  being  to 
meet  his  uncle  at  Bath  without  delay;  but  if  there 
were  any  prospect  of  a  renewal  of  Lovers'  Vows, 
he  should  hold  himself  positively  engaged,  he 
should  break  through  every  other  claim,  he  should 
absolutely  condition  with  his  uncle  for  attending 
them  whenever  he  might  be  wanted.  The  play 
should  not  be  lost  by  his  absence. 

' '  From  Bath,  Norfolk,  London,  York,  —  wher- 
ever I  may  be,''  said  he,  ^^I  will  attend  3^ou  from 
any  place  in  England,  at  an  hour's  notice." 

It  was  well  at  that  moment  that  Tom  had  to 
speak,  and  not  his  sister.  He  could  immediately 
say,  with  easy  fluency,  "  I  am  sorry  you  are  going; 


JVIANSFIELD  PARK. 


251 


but  as  to  our  play,  that  is  all  over,  entirely  at  an 
end/'  looking  significantly  at  his  father.  ^^The 
painter  was  sent  off  yesterday,  and  very  little  will 
remain  of  the  theatre  to-morrow.  I  knew  how 
that  would  be  from  the  first.  It  is  early  for  Bath. 
You  will  find  nobody  there.'' 

It  is  about  my  uncle's  usual  time." 

When  do  you  think  of  going?  " 

I  may,  perhaps,  get  as  far  as  Banbury  to-day." 

Whose  stables  do  you  use  at  Bath?  "  was  the 
next  question;  and  while  this  branch  of  the  sub- 
ject was  under  discussion,  Maria,  who  wanted 
neither  pride  nor  resolution,  was  preparing  to  en- 
counter her  share  of  it  with  tolerable  calmness. 

To  her  he  soon  turned,  repeating  much  of  what 
he  had  already  said,  with  only  a  softened  air  and 
stronger  expressions  of  regret.  But  what  availed 
his  expressions  or  his  air?  He  was  going,  — and 
if  not  voluntarily  going,  voluntarily  intending  to 
stay  away;  for,  excepting  what  might  be  due  to 
his  uncle,  his  engagements  were  all  self-imposed. 
He  might  talk  of  necessity,  but  she  knew  his  inde- 
pendence. The  hand  which  had  so  pressed  hers  to 
his  heart !  —  the  hand  and  the  heart  were  alike  mo- 
tionless and  passive  now!  Her  spirit  supported 
her,  but  the  agony  of  her  mind  was  severe.  She 
had  not  long  to  endure  what  arose  from  listening 
to  language  which  his  actions  contradicted,  or  to 
bury  the  tumult  of  her  feelings  under  the  restraint 
of  society ;  for  general  civilities  soon  called  his  no- 
tice from  her,  and  the  farewell  visit,  as  it  then  be- 
came openly  acknowledged,  was  a  very  short  one. 
He  was  gone,  —  he  had  touched  her  hand  for  tliQ 


252 


MANSEIELD  PARK. 


last  time,  he  had  made  his  parting  bow,  and  she 
might  seek  directly  all  that  solitude  could  do  ior 
her.  Henry  Crawford  was  gone,  —  gone  from  the 
house,  and  within  two  hours  afterwards  from  the 
parish,  —  and  so  ended  all  the  hopes  his  selfish 
vanity  had  raised  in  Maria  and  Julia  Bertram. 

Julia  could  rejoice  that  he  was  gone.  His  pres- 
ence was  beginning  to  be  odious  to  her;  and  if 
Maria  gained  him  not,  she  was  now  cool  enough  to 
dispense  with  any  other  revenge.  She  did  not 
want  exposure  to  be  added  to  desertion.  Henry 
Crawford  gone,  she  could  even  pity  her  sister. 

With  a  purer  spirit  did  Fanny  rejoice  in  the  in- 
telligence. She  heard  it  at  dinner,  and  felt  it  a 
blessing.  By  all  the  others  it  was  mentioned  with 
regret;  and  his  merits  honored  with  due  gradation 
of  feeling,  from  the  sincerity  of  Edmund's  too  par- 
tial regard,  to  the  unconcern  of  liis  mother  speak- 
ing entirely  by  rote.  Mrs.  Norris  began  to  look 
about  her,  and  wonder  that  his  falling  in  love  with 
Julia  had  come  to  nothing;  and  could  almost  fear 
that  she  had  been  remiss  herself  in  forwarding  it; 
but  with  so  many  to  care  for,  how  was  it  possible 
for  even  her  activity  to  keep  pace  with  her  wishes? 

Another  day  or  two,  and  Mr.  Yates  was  gone 
likewise.  In  his  departure  Sir  Thomas  felt  the 
chief  interest :  wanting  to  be  alone  with  his  family, 
the  presence  of  a  stranger  superior  to  Mr.  Yates 
must  have  been  irksome ;  but  of  him,  trifling  and 
confident,  idle  and  expensive,  it  was  every  way 
vexatious.  In  himself  he  was  wearisome,  but  as  the 
friend  of  Tom  and  the  admirer  of  Julia  he  became 
offensive.    Sir  Thomas  had  been  quite  indifferent 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


253 


to  Mr.  Crawford's  going  or  staying;  but  his  good 
wishes  for  Mr.  Yates's  having  a  pleasant  journey, 
as  he  walked  with  him  to  the  hall  door,  were  given 
with  genuine  satisfaction.  Mr.  Yates  had  stayed  to 
see  the  destruction  of  every  theatrical  preparation 
at  Mansfield,  the  removal  of  everything  appertain- 
ing to  the  play :  he  left  the  house  in  all  the  sober- 
ness of  its  general  character,  and  Sir  Thomas  hoped, 
in  seeing  him  out  of  it,  to  be  rid  of  the  worst  ob- 
ject connected  with  the  scheme,  and  the  last  that 
must  be  inevitably  reminding  him  of  its  existence, 
Mrs.  E'orris  contrived  to  remove  one  article  from 
his  sight  that  might  have  distressed  him.  The 
curtain  over  which  she  had  presided  with  such 
talent  and  such  success  went  off  with  her  to  her 
cottage,  where  she  happened  to  be  particularly  in 
want  of  green  baize. 


CHAPTEE  XXI. 


Sir  Thomas's  return  made  a  striking  change  in 
the  ways  of  the  family,  independent  of  Lovers' 
Vows.  Under  his  government,  Mansfield  was  an 
altered  place.  Some  members  of  their  society 
sent  away,  and  the  spirits  of  many  others  sad- 
dened, it  was  all  sameness  and  gloom,  compared 
with  the  past,  —  a  sombre  family-party  rarely  en- 
livened. There  was  little  intercourse  with  the 
Parsonage.  Sir  Thomas,  drawing  back  from  inti- 
macies in  general,  was  particularly  disinclined  at 
this  time  for  any  engagements  but  in  one  quarter. 
The  E/Ushworths  were  the  only  addition  to  his  own 
domestic  circle  which  he  could  solicit. 

Edmund  did  not  wonder  that  such  should  be  his 
father's  feelings,  nor  could  he  regret  anything  but 
the  exclusion  of  the  Grants.  ^^But  they,"  he  ob- 
served to  Fanny,  ^^have  a  claim.  They  seem  to 
belong  to  us,  —  they  seem  to  be  part  of  ourselves. 
I  could  wish  my  father  were  more  sensible  of  their 
very  great  attention  to  my  mother  and  sisters  while 
he  was  avv^ay.  I  am  afraid  they  may  feel  them- 
selves neglected;  but  the  truth  is,  that  my  father 
hardly  knows  them.  They  had  not  been  here  a 
twelvemonth  when  he  left  England.  If  he  knew 
them  better,  he  would  value  their  society  as  it  de- 
serves, for  they  are,  in  fact,  exactly  the  sort  of 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


255 


people  he  would  like.  We  are  sometimes  a  little 
in  want  of  animation  among  ourselves :  my  sisters 
seem  out  of  spirits,  and  Tom  is  certainly  not  at  his 
ease.  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Grant  would  enliven  us,  and 
make  our  evenings  pass  away  with  more  enjoyment 
even  to  my  father.'' 

^^Do  you  think  so?"  said  Fanny:  ^^in  my 
opinion,  my  uncle  would  not  like  any  addition. 
I  think  he  values  the  very  quietness  you  speak  of, 
and  that  the  repose  of  his  own  family  circle  is  all 
he  wants.  And  it  does  not  appear  to  me  that  we 
are  more  serious  than  we  used  to  be,  —  I  mean 
before  my  nncle  went  abroad.  As  well  as  I  can 
recollect,  it  was  always  much  the  same.  There 
was  never  much  laughing  in  his  presence ;  or  if 
there  is  any  difference,  it  is  not  more,  I  think,  than 
snch  an  absence  has  a  tendency  to  produce  at  first. 
There  must  be  a  sort  of  shyness;  but  I  cannot  rec- 
ollect that  our  evenings  formerly  were  ever  merry, 
except  when  my  uncle  was  in  town.  ISTo  young 
people's  are,  I  suppose,  when  those  they  look  up 
to  are  at  home." 

^^I  believe  you  are  right,  Fanny,"  was  his 
reply,  after  a  short  consideration.  "  I  believe  our 
evenings  are  rather  returned  to  what  they  were, 
than  assuming  a  new  character.  The  novelty  was 
in  their  being  lively.  Yet  how  strong  the  im- 
pression that  only  a  few  weeks  will  give!  I 
have  been  feeling  as  if  we  had  never  lived  so 
before." 

^^I  suppose  I  am  graver  than  other  people," 
said  Fanny.  ^^The  evenings  do  not  appear  long 
to  me.    I  love  to  hear  my  uncle  talk  of  the  West 


256 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


Indies.  I  could  listen  to  him  for  an  liour  to- 
gether. It  entertains  me  more  than  many  other 
things  have  done,  —  but  then  I  am  unlike  other 
people,  I  dare  say." 

Why  should  you  dare  say  that?  "  smiling.  ^^Do 
you  want  to  be  told  that  you  are  only  unlike  other 
people  in  being  more  wise  and  discreet?  But 
when  did  you  or  anybody  ever  get  a  compliment 
from  me,  Fanny?  Go  to  my  father  if  you  want 
to  be  complimented.  He  will  satisfy  you.  Ask 
your  uncle  what  he  thinks,  and  you  will  hear  com- 
pliments enough;  and  though  they  may  be  chiefly 
on  your  person,  you  must  put  up  with  it,  and 
trust  to  his  seeing  as  much  beauty  of  mind  in 
time.^^ 

Such  language  was  so  new  to  Panny  that  it 
quite  embarrassed  her. 

Your  uncle  thinks  you  very  pretty,  dear  Fanny, 
—  and  that  is  the  long  and  the  short  of  the  matter. 
Anybody  but  myself  would  have  made  something 
more  of  it,  and  anybody  but  you  would  resent  that 
3^ou  had  not  been  thought  very  pretty  before ;  but 
the  truth  is,  that  your  uncle  never  did  admire  3^ou 
till  now,  and  now  he  does.  Your  complexion 
is  so  improved!  and  you  have  gained  so  much 
countenance!  and  your  figure  —  nay,  Fanny,  do 
not  turn  away  about  it,  —  it  is  but  an  uncle.  If 
you  cannot  bear  an  uncle's  admiration,  what  is  to 
become  of  you?  You  must  really  begin  to  harden 
yourself  to  the  idea  of  being  worth  looking  at. 
You  must  try  not  to  mind  growing  up  into  a  pretty 
woman.'' 

Oh,  don't  talk  so,  don't  talk  so!  "  cried  Fanny, 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


257 


distressed  by  more  feelings  than  lie  was  aware 
of;  but  seeing  that  she  was  distressed,  he  had 
done  with  the  subject,  and  only  added  more 
seriously,  — 

Your  uncle  is  disposed  to  be  pleased  with  you 
in  every  respect ;  and  I  only  wish  you  would  talk 
to  him  more.  You  are  one  of  those  who  are  too 
silent  in  the  evening  circle.'^ 

^^But  I  do  talk  to  him  more  than  I  used.  I 
am  sure  I  do.  Did  not  you  hear  me  ask  him  about 
the  slave-trade  last  night?" 

^^I  did,  and  was  in  hopes  the  question  would 
be  followed  up  by  others.  Tt  would  have  pleased 
your  uncle  to  be  inquired  of  further.'' 

^^And  I  longed  to  do  it,  — but  there  was  such 
a  dead  silence !  And  while  my  cousins  were  sit- 
ting by  without  speaking  a  word  or  seeming  at 
all  interested  in  the  subject,  I  did  not  like — I 
thought  it  would  appear  as  if  I  wanted  to  set  my- 
self off  at  their  expense,  by  showing  a  curiosity 
and  pleasure  in  his  information  which  he  must 
wish  his  own  daughters  to  feel.'' 

^^Miss  Crawford  was  very  right  in  what  she 
said  of  you  the  other  day,  —  that  you  seemed  al- 
most as  fearful  of  notice  and  praise  as  other  women 
were  of  neglect.  We  were  talking  of  you  at  the 
Parsonage,  and  those  were  her  words.  She  has 
great  discernment.  I  know  nobody  who  distin- 
guishes characters  better.  For  so  young  a  woman, 
it  is  remarkable!  She  certainly  understands  you 
better  than  you  are  understood  by  the  greater  part 
of  those  who  have  known  you  so  long;  and  with 
regard  to  some  others,  I  can  perceive,  from  occa- 

VOL.  I.  — 17 


258 


MANSEIELD  PARK. 


sional  lively  hints,  the  unguarded  expressions  of 
the  moment,  that  she  could  define  many  as  accu- 
rately, did  not  delicacy  forbid  it.  I  wonder  what 
she  thinks  of  my  father!  She  must  admire  him 
as  a  fine-looking  man,  with  most  gentlemanlike, 
dignified,  consistent  manners;  but  perhaps,  hav- 
ing seen  him  so  seldom,  his  reserve  may  be  a  little 
repulsive.  Could  they  be  much  together,  I  feel 
sure  of  their  liking  each  other.  He  would  enjoy 
her  liveliness,  and  she  has  talents  to  value  his 
powers.  I  wish  they  met  more  frequently!  I 
hope  she  does  not  suppose  there  is  any  dislike  on 
his  side.^' 

^^She  must  know  herself  too  secure  of  the  re- 
gard of  all  the  rest  of  you,^^  said  Fanny,  with  half 
a  sigh,  ^^to  have  any  such  apprehension.  And 
Sir  Thomas's  wishing  just  at  first  to  be  only  with 
his  family  is  so  very  natural  that  she  can  argue 
nothing  from  that.  After  a  little  while  I  dare 
say  we  shall  be  meeting  again  in  tin;  same  sort 
of  way,  allowing  for  the  difference  of  the  time  of 
year.'' 

^^This  is  the  first  October  that  she  has  passed 
in  the  country  since  her  infancy.  I  do  not  call 
Tunbridge  or  Cheltenham  the  country;  and  ISTo- 
vember  is  a  still  more  serious  month,  and  I  can 
see  that  Mrs.  Grant  is  very  anxious  for  her  not 
finding  Mansfield  dull  as  winter  comes  on." 

Fanny  could  have  said  a  great  deal,  but  it  was 
safer  to  say  nothing,  and  leave  untouched  all  Miss 
Crawford's  resources,  — her  accomplishments,  her 
spirits,  her  importance,  her  friends,  — lest  it  should 
betray  her  into  any  observations  seemingly  un- 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


259 


handsome.  Miss  Crawford's  kind  opinion  of  her- 
self deserved  at  least  a  grateful  forbearance,  and 
she  began  to  talk  of  something  else. 

To-morrow,  I  think,  my  uncle  dines  at  Sother- 
ton,  and  you  and  Mr.  Bertram  too.  We  shall  be 
quite  a  small  party  at  home.  I  hope  my  uncle 
may  continue  to  like  Mr.  Rushworth.'' 

That  is  impossible,  Eanny.  He  must  like  him 
less  after  to-morrow's  visit,  for  we  shall  be  live 
hours  in  his  company.  I  should  dread  the  stupid- 
ity of  the  day,  if  there  were  not  a  much  greater 
evil  to  follow,  —  the  impression  it  must  leave  on 
Sir  Thomas.  He  cannot  much  longer  deceive 
himself.  I  am  sorry  for  them  all,  and  would  give 
something  that  Rushworth  and  Maria  had  never 
met.'' 

In  this  quarter,  indeed,  disappointment  was 
impending  over  Sir  Thomas.  Kot  all  his  good- 
will for  Mr.  Rushworth,  not  all  Mr.  Rushworth's 
deference  for  him,  could  prevent  him  from  soon 
discerning  some  jjart  of  the  truth,  —  that  Mr. 
Rushworth  was  an  inferior  young  man,  as  igno- 
rant in  business  as  in  books,  w^th  opinions  in 
general  unfixed,  and  without  seeming  much  aware 
of  it  himself. 

He  had  expected  a  very  different  son-in-law; 
and  beginning  to  feel  grave  on  Maria's  account, 
tried  to  understand  her  feelings.  Little  observa- 
tion there  was  necessary  to  tell  him  that  indiffer- 
ence was  the  most  favorable  state  they  could  be  in. 
Her  behavior  to  Mr.  Rushworth  was  careless  and 
cold.  She  could  not,  did  not  like  him.  Sir 
Thomas  resolved  to  speak  seriously  to  her.  Ad- 


260 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


vantageous  as  would  be  the  alliance,  and  long 
standing  and  public  as  was  the  engagement,  her 
happiness  must  not  be  sacrificed  to  it.  Mr.  Rush- 
worth  had,  perhaps,  been  accepted  on  too  short  an 
acquaintance,  and,  on  knowing  him  better,  she 
was  repenting. 

With  solemn  kindness  Sir  Thomas  addressed 
her;  told  her  his  fears,  inquired  into  her  wishes, 
entreated  her  to  be  open  and  sincere,  and  assured 
her  that  every  inconvenience  should  be  braved, 
and  the  connection  entirely  given  up,  if  she  felt 
herself  unhappy  in  the  prospect  of  it.  He  would 
act  for  her  and  release  her.  Maria  had  a  moment's 
struggle  as  she  listened,  and  only  a  moment's: 
when  her  father  ceased,  she  was  able  to  give  her 
answer  immediately,  decidedly,  and  with  no  ap- 
parent agitation.  She  thanked  him  for  his  great 
attention,  his  paternal  kindness;  but  he  was  quite 
mistaken  in  supposing  she  had  the  smallest  desire 
of  breaking  through  her  engagement,  or  was  sen- 
sible of  any  change  of  opinion  or  inclination  since 
her  forming  it.  She  had  the  highest  esteem  for 
Mr.  Rushworth's  character  and  disposition,  and 
could  not  have  a  doubt  of  her  happiness  with 
him. 

Sir  Thomas  was  satisfied;  too  glad  to  be  satis- 
fied, perhaps,  to  urge  the  matter  quite  so  far  as  his 
judgment  might  have  dictated  to  others.  It  was 
an  alliance  which  he  could  not  have  relinquished 
without  pain;  and  thus  he  reasoned.  Mr.  Eush- 
worth  was  young  enough  to  improve;  Mr.  Kush- 
worth  must  and  would  improve  in  good  society; 
and  if  Maria  could  now  speak  so  securely  of  her 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


261 


happiness  with  him,  speaking  certain!}^  without 
the  prejudice,  the  blindness  of  love,  she  ought  to 
be  believed.  Her  feelings,  probably,  were  not 
acute;  he  had  never  supposed  them  to  be  so:  but 
her  comforts  might  not  be  less  on  that  account; 
and  if  she  could  dispense  with  seeing  her  husband 
a  leading,  shining  character,  there  would  certainly 
be  everything  else  in  her  favor.  A  well-disposed 
young  woman  who  did  not  marry  for  love  was  in 
general  but  the  more  attached  to  her  own  family; 
and  the  nearness  of  Sotherton  to  Mansfield  must 
naturally  hold  out  the  greatest  temptation,  and 
would  in  all  probability  be  a  continual  supply  of 
the  most  amiable  and  innocent  enjoyments.  Such 
and  such-like  were  the  reasonings  of  Sir  Thomas,  — 
happy  to  escape  the  embarrassing  evils  of  a  rupture, 
the  wonder,  the  reflections,  the  reproach,  that  must 
attend  it;  happy  to  secure  a  marriage  which  would 
bring  him  such  an  addition  of  respectability  and  in- 
fluence, and  very  happy  to  think  anything  of  his 
daughter's  disposition  that  was  most  favorable  for 
the  purpose. 

To  her  the  conference  closed  as  satisfactorily  as 
to  him.  She  was  in  a  state  of  mind  to  be  glad 
that  she  had  secured  her  fate  beyond  recall,  —  that 
she  had  pledged  herself  anew  to  Sotherton,  —  that 
she  was  safe  from  the  possibility  of  giving  Craw- 
ford the  triumph  of  governing  her  actions  and  de- 
stroying her  prospects ;  and  retired  in  proud  resolve^ 
determined  only  to  behave  more  cautiously  to  Mr. 
Eushworth  in  future,  that  her  father  might  not  be 
again  suspecting  her. 

Had  Sir  Thomas  applied  to  his  daughter  within 


262 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


the  first  three  or  four  days  after  Henry  Crawford's 
leaving  Mansfield^  before  her  feelings  were  at  all 
tranquillized,  before  she  had  given  up  every  hope 
of  him,  or  absolutely  resolved  on  enduring  his 
rival,  her  answer  might  have  been  different;  but 
after  another  three  or  four  days,  when  there  was  no 
return,  no  letter,  no  message,  —  no  symptom  of  a 
softened  heart,  —  no  hope  of  advantage  from  sepa- 
ration, her  mind  became  cool  enough  to  seek  all 
the  comfort  that  pride  and  self-revenge  could  give. 

Henry  Crawford  had  destroyed  her  happiness, 
but  he  should  not  know  that  he  had  done  it;  he 
should  not  destroy  her  credit,  her  appearance,  her 
prosperity  too.  He  should  not  have  to  think  of 
her  as  pining  in  the  retirement  of  Mansfield  for 
him,  rejecting  Sotherton  and  London,  indepen- 
dence and  splendor,  for  his  sake.  Independence 
was  more  needful  than  ever;  the  want  of  it  at 
Mansfield  more  sensibly  felt.  She  was  less  and 
less  able  to  endure  the  restraint  which  her  father 
imposed.  The  liberty  which  his  absence  had  given 
was  now  become  absolutely  necessary.  She  must 
escape  from  him  and  Mansfield  as  soon  as  possible, 
and  find  consolation  in  fortune  and  consequence, 
bustle  and  the  world,  for  a  wounded  spirit.  Her 
mind  was  quite  determined,  and  varied  not. 

To  such  feelings  delay,  even  the  delay  of  much 
preparation,  would  have  been  an  evil,  and  Mr. 
E-ushworth  could  hardly  be  more  impatient  for  the 
marriage  than  ^herself.  In  all  the  important  prep- 
arations of  the  mind  she  was  complete;  being  pre- 
pared for  matrimony  by  a  hatred  of  home,  restraint, 
and  tranquillity,  by  the  misery  of  disappointed 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


263 


affection,  and  contempt  of  tlie  man  slie  was  to 
marry.  The  rest  might  wait.  The  preparations 
of  new  carriages  and  furniture  might  wait  for  Lon- 
don and  spring,  when  her  own  taste  could  have 
fairer  play. 

The  principals  being  all  agreed  in  this  respect, 
it  soon  appeared  that  a  very  few  weeks  would  be 
sufficient  for  such  arrangements  as  must  precede 
the  wedding. 

Mrs.  Rushworth  was  quite  ready  to  retire,  and 
make  way  for  the  fortunate  young  woman  whom 
her  dear  son  had  selected;  and  very  early  in  No- 
vember removed  herself,  her  maid,  her  footman, 
and  her  chariot,  with  true  dowager  propriety,  to 
Bath,  —  there  to  parade  over  the  wonders  of  S other- 
ton  in  her  evening  parties,  enjoying  them  as 
thoroughly,  perhaps,  in  the  animation  of  a  card- 
table  as  she  had  ever  done  on  the  spot,  —  and  be- 
fore the  middle  of  the  same  month  the  ceremony 
had  taken  place  which  gave  Sotherton  another 
mistress. 

It  was  a  very  proper  wedding.  The  bride  was 
elegantly  dressed;  the  two  bridemaids  were  duly 
inferior;  her  father  gave  her  away;  her  mother 
stood  with  salts  in  her  hand,  expecting  to  be  agi- 
tated; her  aunt  tried  to  cvj]  and  the  service 
was  impressively  read  by  Dr.  Grant.  Nothing 
could  be  objected  to,  when  it  came  under  the  dis- 
cussion of  the  neighborhood,  except  that  the  car- 
riage which  conveyed  the  bride  and  bridegroom 
and  Julia  from  the  church  door  to  Sotherton  was 
the  same  chaise  which  Mr.  Rush  worth  had  used 
for  a  twelvemonth  before.    In  everything  else  the 


264 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


etiquette  of  the  day  might  stand  the  strictest 
investigation. 

It  was  done,  and  they  were  gone.  Sir  Thomas 
felt  as  an  anxious  father  must  feel,  and  was  indeed 
experiencing  much  of  the  agitation  which  his  wife 
had  been  apprehensive  of  for  herself,  but  had  fortu- 
nately escaped.  Mrs.  Norris,  most  happy  to  assist 
in  the  duties  of  the  day  by  spending  it  at  the 
Park  to  support  her  sister^ s  spirits,  and  drinking 
the  health  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Rushworth  in  a  super- 
numerary glass  or  two,  was  all  joyous  delight; 
for  she  had  made  the  match,  —  she  had  done  every- 
thing, —  and  no  one  would  have  supposed,  from  her 
confident  triumph,  that  she  liad  ever  heard'  of  con- 
jugal infelicity  in  her  life,  or  could  have  the 
smallest  insight  into  the  disposition  of  the  niece 
who  had  been  brought  up  under  her  eye. 

The  plan  of  the  young  couple  was  to  proceed, 
after  a  few  days,  to  Brighton,  and  take  a  house 
there  for  some  weeks.  Every  public  place  was  new 
to  Maria,  and  Brighton  is  almost  as  gay  in  winter 
as  in  summer.  When  the  novelty  of  amusement 
there  was  over,  it  would  be  time  for  the  wider 
range  of  London. 

Julia  was  to  go  with  them  to  Brighton.  Since 
rivalry  between  the  sisters  had  ceased,  they  had 
been  gradually  recovering  much  of  their  former 
good  understanding,  and  were  at  least  sufficiently 
friends  to  make  each  of  them  exceedingly  glad  to 
be  with  the  other  at  such  a  time.  Some  other  com- 
panion  than  Mr.  Eush worth  was  of  the  first  conse- 
quence to  his  lady;  and  Julia  was  quite  as  eager 
for  novelty  and  pleasure  as  Maria,  though  she 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


265 


might  not  have  struggled  through  fo  much  to  ob- 
tain them,  and  could  better  bear  a  subordinate 
situation. 

Their  departure  made  another  material  change  at 
Mansfield,  a  chasm  which  required  some  time  to 
fill  up.  The  family  circle  became  greatly  con- 
tracted; and  though  the  Miss  Bertrams  had  latterly 
added  little  to  its  gayety,  they  could  not  but  be 
missed.  Even  their  mother  missed  them;  and 
how  much  more  their  tender-hearted  cousin,  who 
wandered  about  the  house,  and  thought  of  them 
and  felt  for  them  with  a  degree  of  affectionate 
regret  wdiich  they  had  never  done  much  to 
deserve ! 


CHAPTEE  XXII. 


Fanny's  consequence  increased  on  the  departure  of 
her  cousins.  Becoming,  as  she  then  did,  the  only 
young  woman  in  the  drawing-room,  the  only  occu- 
pier of  that  interesting  division  of  a  family  in 
which  she  had  hitherto  held  so  humble  a  third,  it 
was  impossible  for  her  not  to  be  more  looked  at, 
more  thought  of  and  attended  to,  than  she  had  ever 
been  before;  and  Where  is  Fanny? became 
no  uncommon  question,  even  without  her  being 
wanted  for  any  one's  convenience. 

Not  only  at  home  did  her  value  increase,  but  at 
the  Parsonage  too.  In  that  house,  which  she  had 
hardly  entered  twice  a  year  since  Mr.  Norris's 
death,  she  became  a  welcome,  an  invited  guest; 
and  in  the  gloom  and  dirt  of  a  November  day,  most 
acceptable  to  Mary  Crawford.  Her  visits  there, 
beginning  by  chance,  were  continued  by  solicita- 
tion. Mrs.  Grant,  really  eager  to  get  any  change 
for  her  sister,  could,  by  the  easiest  self-deceit,  per- 
suade herself  that  she  was  doing  the  kindest  thing 
by  Fanny,  and  giving  her  the  most  important 
opportunities  of  improvement  in  pressing  her 
frequent  cafts. 

Fanny,  having  been  sent  into  the  village  on 
some  errand  by  her  aunt  Norris,  was  overtaken  by 
a  heavy  shower  close  to  the  Parsonage  j  and  being 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


267 


descried  from  one  of  the  windows  endeavoring  to 
find  shelter  under  the  branches  and  lingering 
leaves  of  an  oak  just  beyond  their  premises,  was 
forced,  though  not  without  some  modest  reluctance 
on  her  part,  to  come  in.  A  civil  servant  she  had 
withstood;  but  when  Dr.  Grant  himself  went  out 
with  an  umbrella,  there  was  nothing  to  be  done 
but  to  be  very  much  ashamed  and  to  get  into  the 
house  as  fast  as  possible ;  and  to  poor  Miss  Craw- 
ford, who  had  just  been  contemplating  the  dismal 
rain  in  a  very  desponding  state  of  mind,  sighing 
over  the  ruin  of  all  her  plan  of  exercise  for  that 
morning,  and  of  every  chance  of  seeing  a  single 
creature  beyond  themselves  for  the  next  twenty- 
four  hours,  the  sound  of  a  little  bustle  at  the  front 
door,  and  the  sight  of  Miss  Price  dripping  with 
wet  in  the  vestibule,  was  delightful.  The  value 
of  an  event  on  a  wet  day  in  the  country  was  most 
forcibly  brought  before  her.  She  was  all  alive 
again  directly,  and  among  the  most  active  in  being 
useful  to  Fanny,  in  detecting  her  to  be  wetter  than 
she  would  at  first  allow,  and  providing  her  with 
dry  clothes;  and  Fanny,  after  being  obliged  to 
submit  to  all  this  attention,  and  to  being  assisted 
and  waited  on  by  mistresses  and  maids,  being  also 
obliged,  on  returning  downstairs,  to  be  fixed  in 
their  drawing-room  for  an  hour  while  the  rain  con- 
tinued, the  blessing  of  something  fresh  to  see  and 
think  of  was  thus  extended  to  Miss  Crawford,  and 
might  carry  on  her  spirits  to  the  period  of  dressing 
and  dinner. 

The  two  sisters  were  so  kind  to  her  and  so 
pleasant  that  Fanny  might  have  enjoyed  her  visit 


268 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


could  she  have  believed  herself  not  in  the  way, 
and  could  she  have  foreseen  that  the  weathei: 
would  certainly  clear  at  the  end  of  the  hour,  and 
save  her  from  the  shame  of  having  Dr.  Grant's 
carriage  and  horses  out  to  take  her  home,  with 
which  she  was  threatened.  As  to  anxiety  for  any 
alarn^  that  her  absence  in  such  weather  might 
occasion  at  home,  she  had  nothing  to  suffer  on  that 
score;  for  as  her  being  out  was  known  only  to  her 
two  aunts,  she  was  perfectly  aware  that  none 
would  be  felt,  and  that  in  whatever  cottage  Aunt 
Norris  might  choose  to  establish  her  during  the 
rain,  her  being  in  such  cottage  would  be  indubi- 
table to  Aunt  Bertram. 

It  was  beginning  to  look  brighter,  when  Fanny, 
observing  a  harp  in  the  room,  asked  some  ques- 
tions about  it  which  soon  led  to  an  acknowledg- 
ment of  her  wishing  very  much  to  hear  it,  and  a 
confession,  which  could  hardly  be  believed,  of  her 
having  never  yet  heard  it  since  its  being  in  Mans- 
field. To  Fanny  herself  it  appeared  a  very  simple 
and  natural  circumstance.  She  had  scarcely  ever 
been  at  the  Parsonage  since  the  instrument's 
arrival,  there  had  been  no  reason  that  she  should; 
but  Miss  Crawford,  calling  to  mind  an  early  ex- 
pressed wish  on  the  subject,  was  concerned  at  her 
own  neglect;  and  Shall  I  play  to  you  now?" 
and  What  will  you  have?  "  were  questions  imme- 
diately follc^wing  with  the  readiest  good-humor. 

She  played  accordingly;  happy  to  have  a  new 
listener,  and  a  listener  who  seemed  so  much 
obliged,  so  full  of  wonder  at  the  performance,  and 
who  showed  herself  not  wanting  in  taste.  She 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


269 


played  till  Panny's  eyes,  straying  to  tlie  window 
on  the  weather's  being  evidently  fair,  spoke  what 
she  felt  must  be  done. 

Another  quarter  of  an  hour/'  said  Miss  Craw- 
ford, ^^and  we  shall  see  how  it  will  be.  Do  not 
run  away  the  first  moment  of  its  holding  up. 
Those  clouds  look  alarming.'' 

^^But  they  are  passed  over,"  said  Fanny.  ^^I 
have  been  watching  them.  This  weather  is  all 
from  the  south." 

South  or  north,  I  know  a  black  cloud  when  I 
see  it;  and  you  must  not  set  forward  while  it  is  so 
threatening.  And  besides,  I  want  to  play  some- 
thing more  to  you,  — a  very  pretty  piece,  and 
your  cousin  Edmund's  prime  favorite.  You  must 
stay  and  hear  your  cousin's  favorite." 

Fanny  felt  that  she  must;  and  though  she  had 
not  waited  for  that  sentence  to  be  thinking  of 
Edmund,  such  a  memento  made  her  particularly 
awake  to  his  idea,  and  she  fancied  him  sitting  in 
that  room  again  and  again,  perhaps  in  the  very 
spot  where  she  sat  now,  listening  with  constant 
delight  to  the  favorite  air,  played,  as  it  appeared 
to  her,  with  superior  tone  and  expression;  and 
though  pleased  with  it  herself,  and  glad  to  like 
whatever  was  liked  by  him,  she  was  more  sin- 
cerely impatient  to  go  awaj^  at  the  conclusion  of  it 
than  she  had  been  before;  and  on  this  being  evi- 
dent, she  was  so  kindly  asked  to  call  again,  to 
take  them  in  her  walk  whenever  she  could,  to 
come  and  hear  more  of  the  harp,  that  she  felt  it 
necessary  to  be  done  if  no  objection  arose  at 
home. 


270  MANSFIELD  PARK. 

Such  was  the  origin  of  the  sort  of  intimacy 
which  took  place  between  them  within  the  first 
fortnight  after  the  Miss  Bertrams'  going  away,  — 
an  intimacy  resulting  principally  from  Miss  Craw- 
ford's desire  of  something  new,  and  which  had 
little  reality  in  Fanny's  feelings.  Fanny  went  to 
her  every  two  or  three  days :  it  seemed  a  kind  of 
fascination;  she  could  not  be  easy  without  goiug, 
and  yet  it  was  without  loving  her,  without  ever 
thinking  like  her,  without  any  sense  of  obligation 
for  being  sought  after  now  when  nobody  else  was 
to  be  had;  and  deriving  no  higher  pleasure  from 
her  conversation  than  occasional  amusement,  and 
that  often  at  the  expense  of  her  judgment,  when  it 
was  raised  by  pleasantry  on  people  or  subjects 
which  she  wished  to  be  respected.  She  went,  how- 
ever, and  they  sauntered  about  together  many  a 
half  hour  in  Mrs.  Grant's  shrubbery,  the  weather 
being  unusually  mild  for  the  time  of  year;  and 
venturing  sometimes  even  to  sit  down  on  one  of  the 
benches  now  comparatively  unsheltered,  remain- 
ing there  perhaps  till,  in  the  midst  of  some  tender 
ejaculation  of  Fanny's  on  the  sweets  of  so  pro- 
tracted an  autumn,  they  were  forced  b}^  the  sudden 
swell  of  a  cold  gust  shaking  down  the  last  few 
yellow  leaves  about  them,  to  jump  up  and  walk 
for  warmth. 

^^This  is  pretty,  very  pretty,"  said  Fanny, 
looking  around  her  as  they  were  thus  sitting  to- 
gether one ^  day.  Every  time  I  come  into  this 
shrubbery  I  am  more  struck  with  its  growth  and 
beauty.  Three  years  ago  this  was  nothing  but  a 
rough  hedgerow  along  the  upper  side  of  the  field, 


MANSFIELD  PAEK. 


271 


never  tlioiiglit  of  as  anything,  or  capable  of  becom- 
ing anything;  and  now  it  is  converted  into  a  walk, 
and  it  would  be  difficult  to  say  whether  most  valu- 
able as  a  convenience  or  an  ornament;  and,  per- 
haps, in  another  three  years  we  may  be  forgetting, 
almost  forgetting  what  it  was  before.  How 
wonderful,  how  very  wonderful  the  operations  of 
time,  and  the  changes  of  the  human  mind!  "  And 
following  the  latter  train  of  thought,  she  soon 
afterwards  added :  ^  ^  If  any  one  faculty  of  our  na- 
ture may  be  called  more  wonderful  than  the  rest, 
I  do  think  it  is  memory.  There  seems  something 
more  speakingly  incomprehensible  in  the  powers, 
the  failures,  the  inequalities  of  memory,  than  in 
any  other  of  our  intelligences.  The  memory  is 
sometimes  so  retentive,  so  serviceable,  so  obedient; 
at  others,  so  bewildered  and  so  weak ;  and  at  others 
again,  so  tyrannic,  so  beyond  control !  We  are,  to 
be  sure,  a  miracle  every  way;  but  our  powers  of 
recollecting  and  of  forgetting  do  seem  peculiarly 
past  finding  out.'' 

Miss  Crawford,  untouched  and  inattentive,  had 
nothing  to  say;  and  Fanny,  perceiving  it,  brought 
back  her  own  mind  to  what  she  thought  must 
interest. 

^^It  may  seem  impertinent  in  me  to  praise,  but 
I  must  admire  the  taste  Mrs.  Grant  has  shown  in 
all  this.  There  is  such  a  quiet  simplicit}^  in  the 
plan  of  the  walk,  —  not  too  much  attempted!  " 

^^Yes, "  replied  Miss  Crawford,  carelessly,  ^Mt 
does  very  well  for  a  place  of  this  sort.  One  does 
not  think  of  extent  here;  and  between  ourselves, 
till  I  came  to  Mansfield,  I  had  not  imagined  a 


272 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


country  parson  ever  aspired  to  a  shrubbery,  or  any- 
thing of  the  kind.'' 

^^I  am  so  glad  to  see  the  evergreens  thrive!" 
said  Fanny,  in  reply.  My  uncle's  gardener  al- 
ways says  the  soil  here  is  better  than  his  own, 
and  so  it  appears  from  the  growth  of  the  laurels 
and  evergreens  in  general.  The  evergreen!  How 
beautiful,  how  welcome,  how  wonderful  the  ever- 
green! When  one  thinks  of  it,  how  astonishing  a 
variety  of  nature!  In  some  countries  we  know 
the  tree  that  sheds  its  leaf  is  the  variety;  but  that 
does  not  make  it  less  amazing  that  the  same  soil 
and  the  same  sun  should  nurture  plants  differing 
in  the  first  rule  and  law  of  their  existence.*  You 
will  think  me  rhapsodizing;  but  when  I  am  out  of 
doors,  especially  when  I  am  sitting  out  of  doors,  I 
am  very  apt  to  get  into  this  sort  of  wondering 
strain.  One  cannot  fix  one's  eyes  on  the  common- 
est natural  production  without  finding  food  for  a 
rambling  fancy." 

^^To  say  the  truth,"  replied  Miss  Crawford,  ^^I 
am  something  like  the  famous  Doge  at  the  court  of 
Louis  XIV.,  and  may  declare  that  I  see  no  wonder 
in  this  shrubbery  equal  to  seeing  myself  in  it. 
If  anybody  had  told  me  a  year  ago  that  this  place 
would  be  my  home,  that  I  should  be  spending 
month  after  month  here,  as  I  have  done,  I  cer- 
tainly should  not  have  believed  them.  I  have 
now  been  here  nearly  five  months ;  and  moreover, 
the  quietest  five  months  I  ever  passed." 

^^Too  quiet  for  you,  I  believe." 

^^I  should  have  thought  so  theoretically  m}^- 
self ;  but,"  and  her  eyes  brightened  as  she  spoke, 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


273 


^^take  it  all  and  all,  I  never  spent  so  liappy  a 
summer.  But  then,"  with  a  more  thoughtful  air 
and  lowered  voice,  there  is  no  saying  what  it  may 
lead  to/' 

Fanny's  heart  beat  quick,  and  she  felt  quite 
unequal  to  surmising  or  soliciting  anything  more. 
Miss  Crawford,  however,  with  renewed  animation, 
soon  went  on :  — 

^^I  am  conscious  of  being  far  better  reconciled 
to  a  country  residence  than  I  had  ever  expected 
to  be.  I  can  even  suppose  it  pleasant  to  spend 
half  the  year  in  the  country,  under  certain  circum- 
stances, —  very  pleasant.  An  elegant,  moderate- 
sized  house  in  the  centre  of  family  connections; 
continual  engagements  among  them;  commanding 
the  first  society  in  the  neighborhood;  looked  up 
to,  perhaps,  as  leading  it  even  more  than  those 
of  larger  fortune,  and  turning  from  the  cheerful 
round  of  such'  amusements  to  nothing  worse  than 
a  tete-a-tete  with  the  person  one  feels  most  agree- 
able in  the  world.  There  is  nothing  frightful 
in  such  a  picture,  is  there.  Miss  Price?  One 
need  not  envy  the  new  Mrs.  Eush worth  with  such 
a  home  as  that.'' 

^^Envy  Mrs.  Eushworth!  "  was  all  that  Fanny 
attempted  to  say. 

^^Come,  come,  it  would  be  very  unhandsome  in 
us  to  be  severe  on  Mrs.  Eushworth,  for  I  look  for- 
ward to  our  owing  her  a  great  many  gay,  brilliant, 
happy  hours.  I  expect  we  shall  be  all  very  much 
at  Sotherton  another  year.  Such  a  match  as  Miss 
Bertram  has  made  is  a  public  blessing;  for  the 
first  pleasures  of  Mr.  Eushworth's  wife  must  be 

VOL.  I. — 18 


274 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


to  fill  her  house,  and  give  the  best  balls  in  the 
country.^' 

Fanny  was  silent,  and  Miss  Crawford  relapsed 
into  thoughtful ness,  till  suddenly  looking  up  at 
the  end  of  a  few  minutes,  she  exclaimed,  ^^Ah! 
here  he  is.'^  It  was  not  Mr.  Eush worth,  however, 
but  Edmund,  who  then  appeared  walking  towards 
them  with  Mrs.  Grant.  ^^My  sister  and  Mr. 
Bertram.  I  am  so  glad  your  eldest  cousin  is  gone, 
that  he  may  be  Mr.  Bertram  again.  There  is 
something  in  the  sound  of  Mr.  Edmund  Bertram 
so  formal,  so  pitiful,  so  younger-brother-like,  that 
I  detest  it.^' 

^^How  differently  we  feel!  ^'  cried  Fanny.*  '^To 
me  the  sound  of  Mr.  Bertram  is  so  cold  and 
nothing-meaning,  so  entirely  without  warmth  or 
character!  It  just  stands  for  a  gentleman,  and 
that 's  all.  But  there  is  nobleness  in  the  name 
of  Edmund.  It  is  a  name  of  heroism  and  re- 
nown, —  of  kings,  princes,  and  knights,  —  and 
seems  to  breathe  the  spirit  of  chivalry  and  warm 
affections.^' 

^'1  grant  you  the  name  is  good  in  itself,  and 
Lord  Edmund  or  Sir  Edmund  sounds  delightfully; 
but  sink  it  under  the  chill,  the  annihilation  of  a 
Mr.,  and  Mr.  Edmund  is  no  more  than  Mr.  John 
or  Mr.  Thomas.  Well,  shall  we  join  and  disap- 
point them  of  half  their  lecture  upon  sitting  down 
out  of  doors  at  this  time  of  year,  by  being  up  be- 
fore they  can  begin?'' 

Edmund  met  them  with  particular  pleasure.  It 
was  the  first  time  of  his  seeing  them  together 
since  the  beginning  of  that  better  acquaintanco 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


275 


which  he  had  been  hearing  of  with  great  satis- 
faction. A  friendship  between  two  so  very  dear 
to  him  was  exactly  what  he  could  have  wished; 
and  to  the  credit  of  the  lover's  understanding  be 
it  stated,  that  he  did  not  by  any  means  consider 
Fanny  as  the  only  or  even  as  the  greater  gainer 
by  such  a  friendship. 

^^Well/^  said  Miss  Crawford,  ^^and  do  not 
you  scold  us  for  our  imprudence?  What  do  you 
think  we  have  been  sitting  down  for  but  to  be 
talked  to  about  it,  and  entreated  and  supplicated 
never  to  do  so  again?'' 

Perhaps  I  might  have  scolded,"  said  Edmund, 
^^if  either  of  you  had  been  sitting  down  alone; 
but  while  you  do  wrong  together,  I  can  overlook 
a  great  deal.'' 

^^They  cannot  have  been  sitting  long,"  cried 
Mrs.  Grant;  ^^for  when  I  went  up  for  my  shawl, 
I  saw  them  from  the  staircase  window,  and  then 
they  were  walking." 

^^And  really,"  added  Edmund,  ^^the  day  is  so 
mild  that  jouy  sitting  down  for  a  few  minutes 
can  be  hardly  thought  imprudent.  Our  weather 
must  not  always  be  judged  by  the  calendar.  We 
may  sometimes  take  greater  liberties  in  November 
than  in  May." 

'^Upon  my  word,"  cried  Miss  Crawford,  ^^you 
are  two  of  the  most  disappointing  and  unfeeling 
kind  friends  I  ever  met  with!  There  is  no  giving 
you  a  moment's  uneasiness.  You  do  not  know 
how  much  we  have  been  suffering,  nor  what  chills 
we  have  felt!  But  I  have  long  thought  Mr.  Ber- 
tram one  of  the  worst  subjects  to  work  on  in  any 


276 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


little  manoeuvre  against  common  sense  that  a 
woman  could  be  plagued  with.  I  liad  very  little 
hope  of  him  from  the  first;  but  you,  Mrs.  Grant, 
my  sister,  my  own  sister,  —  I  think  I  had  a  right 
to  alarm  you  a  little." 

Do  not  flatter  yourself,  my  dearest  Mary. 
You  have  not  the  smallest  chance  of  moving  me. 
I  have  my  alarms,  but  they  are  quite  in  a  different 
quarter;  and  if  I  could  have  altered  the  weather^, 
you  would  have  had  a  good  sharp  east  wind  blow- 
ing on  you  the  whole  time,  — for  here  are  some  of 
my  plants  which  Eobert  will  leave  out  because  the 
nights  are  so  mild,  and  I  know  the  end  of  it 
will  be  that  we  shall  have  a  sudden  change  of 
weather,  a  hard  frost  setting  in  all  at  once,  taking 
everybody  (at  least  Robert)  by  surprise,  and  I  shall 
lose  every  one;  and  what  is  worse,  cook  has  just 
been  telling  me  that  the  turkey,  which  I  particu- 
larly wished  not  to  be  dressed  till  Sunday,  because 
I  know  how  much  more  Dr.  Grant  would  enjoy  it 
on  Sunday  after  the  fatigues  of  the  day,  will  not 
keep  beyond  to-morrow.  These  are  something  like 
grievances,  and  make  me  think  the  weather  most 
unseasonably  close." 

'^The  sweets  of  housekeeping  in  a  country  vil- 
lage!said  Miss  Crawford,  archly.  Commend 
m%  to  the  nurseryman  and  the  poulterer." 

^^My  dear  child,  commend  Dr.  Grant  to  the 
deanery  of  Westminster  or  St.  Paul's,  and  I  should 
be  as  glad  of  your  nurseryman  and  poulterer  as  you 
could  be.  But  we  have  no  such  people  in  Mans- 
field.   What  would  you  have  me  do?'' 

Oh,  you  can  do  nothing  but  what  you  do  al- 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


277 


ready,  — be  plagued  very  often,  and  never  lose  your 
temper.'' 

Thank  you, — but  there  is  no  escaping  these 
little  vexations,  Mary,  live  where  we  may;  and 
when  you  are  settled  in  town  and  I  come  to  see 
you,  I  dare  say  I  shall  find  you  with  yours,  in 
spite  of  the  nurseryman  and  the  poulterer,  —  or 
perhaps  on  their  very  account.  Their  remoteness 
and  unpunctuality  or  their  exorbitant  charges  and 
frauds  will  be  drawing  forth  bitter  lamentations.'' 
^^I  mean  to  be  too  rich  to  lament  or  to  feel 
anything  of  the  sort.  A  large  income  is  the 
best  recipe  for  happiness  I  ever  heard  of.  It  cer- 
tainly may  secure  all  the  myrtle  and  turkey  part 
of  it." 

^^You  intend  to  be  very  rich,"  said  Edmund, 
with  a  look  which  to  Fanny's  eye  had  a  great  deal 
of  serious  meaning. 

To  be  sure.  Do  not  you?  Do  not  we  all?  " 
cannot  intend  anything  which  it  must  be  so 
completely  beyond  my  power  to  command.  Miss 
Crawford  may  choose  her  degree  of  wealth.  She 
has  only  to  fix  on  her  number  of  thousands  a  year, 
and  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  their  coming.  My 
intentions  are  only  not  to  be  poor." 

^^By  moderation  and  economy,  and  bringing 
down  your  wants  to  your  income  and  all  that.  I 
understand  you,  —  and  a  very  proper  plan  it  is  for 
a  person  at  your  time  of  life,  with  such  limited 
means  and  indifferent  connections.  What  can 
you  want  but  a  decent  maintenance?  You  have 
not  much  time  before  you;  and  your  relations  are 
in  no  situation  to  do  anything  for  you,  or  to  mor- 


278 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


tify  you  by  the  contrast  of  their  own  wealth  and 
consequence.  Be  honest  and  poor,  by  all  means,  — 
but  I  shall  not  envy  you;  I  do  not  much  think 
I  shall  even  respect  you.  I  have  a  much  greater 
respect  for  those  that  are  honest  and  rich.'^ 

^^Your  degree  of  respect  for  honesty,  rich  or 
poor,  is  precisely  what  I  have  no  manner  of  con- 
cern with.  I  do  not  mean  to  be  poor.  Poverty  is 
exactly  what  I  have  determined  against.  Honesty 
in  the  something  between,  in  the  middle  state  of 
w^orldly  circumstances,  is  all  that  I  am  anxious  for 
your  not  looking  down  on.'^ 

''IBiit  I  do  look  down  upon  it,  if  it  might  have 
been  higher.  I  must  look  down  upon  anything 
contented  with  obscurity  when  it  might  rise  to 
distinction. 

^^But  how  may  it  rise?  How  may  my  honesty 
at  least  rise  to  any  distinction?^^ 

This  was  not  so  very  easy  a  question  to  answer, 
and  occasioned  an  Oh!  of  some  length  from  the 
fair  lady  before  she  could  add,  You  ought  to  be 
in  parliament,  or  you  should  have  gone  into  the 
army  ten  years  ago.'^ 

^^That  is  not  much  to  the  purpose  now;  and 
as  to  my  being  in  parliament,  I  believe  I  must 
wait  till  there  is  an  especial  assembly  for  the  rep- 
resentation of  younger  sons  who  have  little  to 
live  on.  No,  Miss  Crawford,^'  he  added,  in  a 
more  serious  tone,  ^' there  are  distinctions  which 
I  should  be  miserable  if  I  thought  myself  without 
any  chance  —  absolutely  without  chance  or  possi- 
bility of  obtaining;  but  they  are  of  a  different 
character. 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


279 


A  look  of  consciousness,  as  he  spoke,  and  what 
seemed  a  consciousness  of  manner  on  Miss  Craw- 
ford's side  as  she  made  some  laughing  answer,  was 
sorrowful  food  for  Fanny's  observation;  and  find- 
ing herself  quite  unable  to  attend  as  she  ought  to 
Mrs.  Grant,  by  whose  side  she  was  now  following 
the  others,  she  had  nearly  resolved  on  going  home 
immediately,  and  only  waited  for  courage  to  say 
so,  when  the  sound  of  the  great  clock  at  Mansfield. 
Park,  striking  three,  made  her  feel  that  she  had 
really  been  much  longer  absent  than  usual,  and 
brought  the  previous  self-inquiry  of  whether  she 
should  take  leave  or  not  just  then,  and  how,  to  a 
very  speedy  issue.  With  undoubting  decision  she 
directly  began  her  adieus ;  and  Edmund  began  at 
the  same  time  to  recollect  that  his  mother  had  been 
inquiring  for  her,  and  that  he  had  walked  down  to 
the  Parsonage  on  purpose  to  bring  her  back. 

Fanny's  hurry  increased;  and  without  in  the 
least  expecting  Edmund's  attendance,  she  would 
have  hastened  away  alone;  but  the  general  pace 
was  quickened,  and  they  all  accompanied  her  into 
the  house,  through  which  it  was  necessary  to  pass. 
Dr.  Grant  was  in  the  vestibule ;  and  as  they  stopped 
to  speak  to  him,  she  found,  from  Edmund's  man- 
ner, that  he  did  mean  to  go  with  her.  He,  too, 
was  taking  leave.  She  could  not  but  be  thankful. 
In  the  moment  of  parting,  Edmund  was  invited  by 
Dr.  Grant  to  eat  his  mutton  with  him  the  next 
day;  and  Fanny  had  barely  time  for  an  unpleasant 
feeling  on  the  occasion,  when  Mrs.  Grant,  with 
sudden  recollection,  turned  to  her,  and  asked  for 
the  pleasure  of  her  company  too.    This  was  so  new 


280 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


an  attention,  so  perfectly  new  a  circu«istance  in 
the  events  of  Fanny's  life,  that  she  was  all  surprise 
and  embarrassment;  and  while  stammering  out  her 
great  obligation,  and  her  ^^But  she  did  not  sup- 
pose it  would  be  in  her  power,"  was  looking  at 
Edmund  for  his  opinion  and  help.  But  Edmund, 
delighted  with  her  having  such  a  happiness  offered, 
and  ascertaining  with  half  a  look  and  half  a  sen- 
tence that  she  had  no  objection  but  on  her  aunt's 
account,  could  not  imagine  that  his  mother  would 
make  any  difficulty  of  sparing  her,  and  therefore 
gave  J  his  decided  open  advice  that  the  invitation 
should  be  accepted;  and  though  Fanny  would  not 
venture,  even  on  his  encouragement,  to  such  a 
flight  of  audacious  independence,  it  was  soon  set- 
tled that  if  nothing  were  heard  to  the  contrary, 
Mrs.  Grant  might  expect  her. 

And  you  know  what  your  dinner  will  be,"  said 
Mrs.  Grant,  smiling,  —  the  turkey,  and  I  as- 
sure you  a  very  fine  one;  for,  my  dear,"  turning 
to  her  husband,  ^^cook  insists  upon  the  turkey's 
being  dressed  to-morrow." 

^^Very  well,  very  well,"  cried  Dr.  Grant,  ^^all 
the  better;  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  have  anything 
so  good  in  the  house.  But  Miss  Price  and  Mr. 
Edmund  Bertram,  I  dare  say,  would  take  their 
cl^^nce.  We  none  of  us  want  to  hear  the  bill  of 
fare.  A  friendly  meeting,  and  not  a  fine  dinner, 
is  all  we  have  in  view.  A  turkey  or  a  goose  or  a 
leg  of  mutton,  or  whatever  you  and  your  cook 
choose  to  give  us." 

The  two  cousins  walked,  home  together;  and  ex- 
cept in  the  immediate  discussion  of  this  engage- 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


281 


ment,  which  Edmund  spoke  of  with  the  warmest 
satisfaction,  as  so  particularly  desirable  for  her  in 
the  intimacy  which  he  saw  with  so  much  pleasure 
established,  it  was  a  silent  walk;  for  having 
finished  that  subject,  he  grew  thoughtful  and  in- 
disposed for  any  other. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


*^BuT  why  sliould  Mrs.  Grant  ask  Fanny?  said 
Lady  Bertram.  "  How  came  she  to  think  of  ask- 
ing Fanny?  Fanny  never  dines  there,  you  know, 
in  this  sort  of  way.  I  cannot  spare  her,  and  I  am 
sure  she  does  not  want  to  go.  Fanny,  you  do  not 
want  to  go,  do  you? 

If  you  put  such  a  question  to  her,^^  cried  Ed- 
mund, preventing  his  cousin's  speaking,  Fanny 
will  immediately  say  no;  but  I  am  sure,  my  dear 
mother,  she  would  like  to  go;  and  I  can  see  no 
reason  why  she  should  not.'' 

^^I  cannot  imagine  why  Mrs.  Grant  should 
think  of  asking  her.  She  never  did  before.  She 
used  to  ask  your  sisters  now  and  then,  but  she 
never  asked  Fanny." 

"  If  you  cannot  do  without  me,  ma'am — "  said 
Fanny,  in  a  self-denying  tone. 

^^But  my  mother  will  have  my  father  with  her 
all  the  evening." 

To  be  sure,  so  I  shall." 

Suppose  you  take  my  father's  opinion, 
Ilia' am." 

"  That 's  well  thought  of.  So  I  will,  Edmund. 
I  will  ask  Sir  Thomas  as  soon  as  he  comes  in, 
whether  I  can  do  without  her." 

As  you  please,  ma'am,  on  that  head;  but  I 
meant  my  father's  opinion  as  to  the  propriety  of 


MANSFIELD  PABK. 


283 


the  invitation's  being  accepted  or  not;  and  I  think 
he  will  consider  it  a  right  thing  by  Mrs.  Grant,  as 
well  as  by  Fanny,  that  being  the  first  invitation 
it  should  be  accepted.'' 

^^I  do  not  know.  We  will  ask  him.  But  he 
will  be  very  much  surprised  that  Mrs.  Grant 
should  ask  Fanny  at  all.'' 

There  was  nothing  more  to  be  said,  or  that  could 
be  said  to  any  purpose,  till  Sir  Thomas  were 
present;  but  the  subject  involving,  as  it  did,  her 
own  evening's  comfort  for  the  morrow,  was  so 
much  uppermost  in  Lady  Bertram's  mind  that 
half  an  hour  afterwards,  on  his  looking  in  for  a 
minute  in  his  way  from  his  plantation  to  his  dress- 
ing-room, she  called  him  back  again,  when  he  had 
almost  closed  the  door,  with,  Sir  Thomas,  stop  a 
moment,  — I  have  something  to  say  to  you." 

Her  tone  of  calm  languor,  for  she  never  took  the 
trouble  of  raising  her  voice,  was  always  heard  and 
attended  to;  and  Sir  Thomas  came  back.  Her 
story  began;  and  Fanny  immediately  slipped  out 
of  the  room,  for  to  hear  herself  the  subject  of  any 
discussion  with  her  uncle  was  more  than  her  nerves 
could  bear.  She  was  anxious,  she  knew,  more 
anxious,  perhaps,  than  she  ought  to  be,  —  for  what 
was  it,  after  all,  whether  she  went  or  stayed?  —  but 
if  her  uncle  were  to  be  a  great  while  considering 
and  deciding,  and  with  very  grave  looks,  and 
those  grave  looks  directed  to  her,  and  at  last  decide 
against  her,  she  might  not  be  able  to  appear  prop- 
erly submissive  and  indifferent.  Her  cause,  mean- 
while, went  on  well.  It  began,  on  Lady  Bertram's 
part,  with,    ^ '  I  have  something  to  tell  you  that 


284 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


will  surprise  you.  Mrs.  Grant  has  asked  Fanny 
to  dinner.'^ 

^^Well,"  said  Sir  Thomas,  as  if  waiting  more 
to  accomplish  the  surprise. 

Edmund  wants  her  to  go;  but  how  can  I 
spare  her?  " 

^^She  will  be  late/' said  Sir  Thomas,  taking 
out  his  watch;  ^^but  what  is  your  difficulty? 

Edmund  found  himself  obliged  to  speak,  and  fill 
up  the  blanks  in  his  mother's  story.  He  told  the 
whole;  and  she  had  only  to  add,  ^^So  strange!  for 
Mrs.  Grant  never  used  to  ask  her.'' 

But  is  not  it  very  natural,"  observed  Edmund, 

that  Mrs.  Grant  should  wish  to  procure  so  agree- 
able a  visitor  for  her  sister?  " 

'^Nothing  can  be  more  natural,"  said  Sir 
Thomas,  after  a  short  deliberation;  ^^nor,  were 
there  no  sister  in  the  case,  could  anything,  in  my 
opinion,  be  more  natural.  Mrs.  Grant's  showing 
civility  to  Miss  Price,  to  Lady  Bertram's  niece, 
could  never  want  explanation.  The  only  surprise 
I  can  feel  is,  that  this  should  be  the  first  time  of 
its  being  paid.  Fanny  was  perfectly  right  in  giv- 
ing only  a  conditional  answer.  She  appears  to 
feel  as  she  ought.  But  as  I  conclude  that  she 
must  wish  to  go,  since  all  young  people  like  to  be 
together,  I  can  see  no  reason  why  she  should  be 
denied  the  indulgence." 

But  can  I  do  without  her.  Sir  Thomas?  " 
Indeed  I  think  you  may." 

^^She  always  makes  tea,  you  know,  when  my 
sister  is  not  here." 

^^Your  sister,  perhaps,  may  be  prevailed  on  to 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


285 


spend  the  day  with  us,  and  I  shall  certainly  be  at 
home/' 

Very  well,  then;  Fanny  may  go,  Edmund.'' 
The  good  news  soon  followed  her.  Edmund 
knocked  at  her  door  in  his  way  to  his  own. 

'^Well,  Fanny,  it  is  all  happily  settled,  and 
without  the  smallest  hesitation  on  your  uncle's 
side.    He  had  but  one  opinion.    You  are  to  go." 

Thank  you,  I  am  so  glad,"  was  Fanny's  in- 
stinctive reply;  though  when  she  had  turned  from 
him  and  shut  the  door,  she  could  not  help  feeling, 
^^And  yet,  why  should  I  be  glad,  for  am  I  not 
certain  of  seeing  or  hearing  something  there  to 
pain  me?  " 

In  spite  of  this  conviction,  however,  she  was 
glad.  Simple  as  such  an  engagement  might  ap- 
pear in  other  eyes,  it  had  novelty  and  importance 
in  hers,  for,  excepting  the  day  at  Sotherton,  she 
had  scarcely  ever  dined  out  before;  and  though 
now  going  only  half  a  mile  and  only  to  three  peo- 
ple, still  it  was  dining  out,  and  all  the  little  inter- 
ests of  preparation  were  enjoyments  in  themselves. 
She  had  neither  sympathy  nor  assistance  from 
those  who  ought  to  have  entered  into  her  feelings 
and  directed  her  taste;  for  Lady  Bertram  never 
thought  of  being  useful  to  anybody,  and  Mrs.  ISTor- 
ris,  when  she  came  on  the  morrow,  in  consequence 
of  an  early  call  and  invitation  from  Sir  Thomas, 
was  in  a  very  ill  humor,  and  seemed  intent  only  on 
lessening  her  niece's  pleasure,  both  present  and 
future,  as  much  as  possible. 

^^Upon  my  word,  Fanny,  you  are  in  high  luck 
to  meet  with  such  attention  and  indulgence !  You 


286 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


ouglit  to  be  very  much  obliged  to  Mrs.  Grant  for 
thinking  of  you,  and  to  your  aunt  for  letting  you 
go,  and  you  ought  to  look  upon  it  as  something  ex- 
traordinary; for  I  hope  you  are  aware  that  there  is 
no  real  occasion  for  your  going  into  company  in 
this  sort  of  way,  or  ever  dining  out  at  all;  and  it 
is  what  you  must  not  depend  upon  ever  being  re- 
peated. ISTor  must  you  be  fancying  that  the  invi- 
tation is  meant  as  any  particular  compliment  to 
you;  the  compliment  is  intended  to  your  uncle 
and  aunt  and  me.  Mrs.  Grant  thinks  it  a  civility 
due  to  us  to  take  a  little  notice  of  you,  or  else  it 
would  never  have  come  into  her  head,  and  you 
may  be  very  certain  that  if  your  cousin  Julia  had 
been  at  home,  you  would  not  have  been  asked  at 
all.'^ 

Mrs.  E"orris  had  now  so  ingeniously  done  away 
all  Mrs.  Grant's  part  of  the  favor,  that  Fanny, 
who  found  herself  expected  to  speak,  could  only 
say  that  she  was  very  much  obliged  to  her  aunt 
Bertram  for  sparing  her,  and  that  she  was  endeav- 
oring to  put  her  aunt's  evening  work  in  such  a 
state  as  to  prevent  her  being  missed. 

' '  Oh,  depend  upon  it,  your  aunt  can  do  very 
well  without  you,  or  you  would  not  be  allowed  to 
go.  I  shall  be  here,  so  you  may  be  quite  easy 
about  your  aunt.  And  I  hope  you  will  have  a  very 
agreeable  day,  and  find  it  all  mighty  delightful. 
But  I  must  observe  that  five  is  the  very  awkward- 
est  of  all  possible  numbers  to  sit  dowm  to  table; 
and  T  cannot  but  be  surprised  that  such  an  elegant 
lady  as  Mrs.  Grant  should  not  contrive  better! 
And  round  their  enormous  great  wide  table,  too, 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


287 


whicli  fills  up  the  room  so  dreadfully!  Had  the 
Doctor  been  contented  to  take  my  dining-table 
when  I  came  away,  as  anybody  in  their  senses 
would  have  done,  instead  of  having  that  absurd 
new  one  of  his  own,  which  is  wider,  literally 
wider  than  the  dinner-table  here,  —  how  infinitely 
better  it  would  have  been,  and  how  much  more  he 
would  have  been  respected!  for  people  are  never 
respected  when  they  step  out  of  their  proper  sphere. 
Eemember  that,  Fanny.  Five,  only  five  to  be  sit- 
ting round  that  table!  However,  you  will  have 
dinner  enough  on  it  for  ten,  I  dare  say.'^ 

Mrs.  Norris  fetched  breath  and  went  on  again. 

^^The  nonsense  and  folly  of  people's  stepping 
out  of  their  rank  and  trying  to  appear  above  them- 
selves, makes  me  think  it  right  to  give  you  a  hint, 
Fanny,  now  that  you  are  going  into  company  with- 
out any  of  us;  and  I  do  beseech  and  entreat  you 
not  to  be  putting  yourself  forward,  and  talking 
and  giving  your  opinion  as  if  you  were  one  of  your 
cousins,  —  as  if  you  were  dear  Mrs.  Kushworth  or 
Julia.  That  will  never  do,  believe  me.  Eemem- 
ber,  wherever  you  are,  you  must  be  the  lowest  and 
last;  and  though  Miss  Crawford  is  in  a  manner  at 
home  at  the  Parsonage,  you  are  not  to  be  taking 
place  of  her.  And  as  to  coming  away  at  night, 
you  are  to  stay  just  as  long  as  Edmund  chooses. 
Leave  him  to  settle  that.'' 

^^Yes,  ma'am,  I  should  not  think  of  anything 
else.'' 

'^And  if  it  should  rain, — which  I  think  ex- 
ceedingly likely,  for  I  never  saw  it  more  threaten- 
ing for  a  wet  evening  in  my  life,  — you  must 


288 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


manage  as  well  as  you  can,  and  not  be  expecting 
the  carriage  to  be  sent  for  you.  I  certainly  do  not 
go  home  to-night,  and  therefore  the  carriage  will 
not  be  out  on  my  account;  so  you  must  make  up 
your  mind  to  what  may  happen,  and  take  your 
things  accordingly.'' 

Her  niece  thought  it  perfectly  reasonable.  She 
rated  her  own  claims  to  comfort  as  low  even  as 
Mrs.  ISTorris  could;  and  when  Sir  Thomas  soon 
afterwards,  just  opening  the  door,  said,  Fanny, 
at  what  time  would  you  have  the  carriage  come 
round? she  felt  a  degree  of  astonishment  which 
made  it  impossible  for  her  to  speak. 

^^My  dear  Sir  Thomas!"  cried  Mrs".  Norris, 
red  with  anger,      Fanny  can  walk." 

^^Walk!"  repeated  Sir  Thomas,  in  a  tone  of 
most  unanswerable  dignity,  and  coming  farther 
into  the  room.  ^^My  niece  walk  to  a  dinner  en- 
gagement at  this  time  of  the  year!  Will  twenty 
minutes  after  four  suit  you?'' 

^^Yes,  sir,"  was  Fanny's  humble  answer,  given 
with  the  feelings  almost  of  a  criminal  towards 
Mrs.  Norris;  and  not  bearing  to  remain  with  her 
in  what  might  seem  a  state  of  triumph,  she  followed 
her  uncle  out  of  the  room,  having  sta3^ed  behind 
him  only  long  enough  to  hear  these  words  spoken 
in  angry  agitation,  — 

Quite  unnecessary! — a  great  deal  too  kind! 
But  Edmund  goes;  true,  it  is  upon  Edmund's 
account.  I  observed  he  was  hoarse  on  Thursday 
night." 

But  this  could  not  impose  on  Fanny.  She  felt 
that  the  carriage  was  for  herself,  and  herself  alone ; 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


289 


and  her  uncle's  consideration  of  her,  coming  im- 
mediately after  such  representations  from  her  aunt, 
cost  her  some  tears  of  gratitude  when  she  was 
alone. 

The  coachman  drove  round  to  a  minute ;  another 
minute  brought  down  the  gentleman;  and  as  the 
lady  had,  with  a  most  scrupulous  fear  of  being 
late,  been  many  minutes  seated  in  the  drawing- 
room,  Sir  Thomas  saw  them  off  in  as  good  time  as 
his  own  correctly  punctual  habits,  required. 

^^Now  I  must  look  at  you,  Fanny,''  said  Ed- 
mund, with  the  kind  smile  of  an  affectionate 
brother,  ^^and  tell  you  how  I  like  you;  and  as 
well  as  I  can  judge  by  this  light,  you  look  very 
nicely  indeed.    What  have  you  got  on?  " 

^^The  new  dress  that  my  uncle  was  so  good  as 
to  give  me  on  my  cousin's  marriage.  I  hope  it  is 
not  too  fine;  but  I  thought  I  ought  to  wear  it  as 
soon  as  I  could,  and  that  I  might  not  have  such 
another  opportunity  all  the  winter.  I  hope  you 
do  not  think  me  too  fine." 

A  woman  can  never  be  too  fine  while  she  is  all 
in  white.  No,  I  see  no  finery  about  you;  nothing 
but  what  is  perfectly  proper.  Your  gown  seems 
very  pretty.  I  like  these  glossy  spots.  Has  not 
Miss  Crawford  a  gown  something  the  same?  " 

In  approaching  the  Parsonage  they  passed  close 
by  the  stable-yard  and  coach-house. 

Hey  day!"  said  Edmund,  here's  company, 
here's  a  carriage!  who  have  they  got  to  meet  us?'' 
And  letting  down  the  side-glass  to  distinguish, 

'Tis  Crawford's,  Crawford's  barouche,  I  protest! 
There  are  his  own  two  men  pushing  it  back  into 

VOL.  I.  — 19 


290 


MANSFIELD  PAEK. 


its  old  quarters.  He  is  here,  of  course.  This  is 
quite  a  surprise,  Ystnny,  I  shall  be  very  glad  to 
see  him.^' 

There  was  no  occasion,  there  was  no  time  for 
Fanny  to  say  how  very  differently  she  felt;  but 
the  idea  of  having  such  another  to  observe  her 
was  a  great  increase  of  the  trepidation  with  which 
she  performed  the  very  awful  ceremony  of  walking 
into  the  drawing-room.  ^ 

In  the  drawing-room  Mr.  Crawford  certainly 
was,  having  been  just  long  enough  arrived  to  be 
ready  for  dinner;  and  the  smiles  and  pleased  looks 
of  the  three  others  standing  round  him  showed 
how  welcome  was  his  sudden  resolution  of  coming 
to  them  for  a  few  days  on  leaving  Bath.  A  very 
cordial  meeting  passed  between  him  and  Edmund; 
and,  with  the  exception  of  Fanny,  the  pleasure 
was  general;  and  even  to  her  there  might  be  some 
advantage  in  his  presence,  since  every  addition  to 
the  party  must  rather  forward  her  favorite  indul- 
gence  of  being  suffered  to  sit  silent  and  unat- 
tended to.  She  was  soon  aware  of  this  herself; 
for  though  she  must  submit,  as  her  own  propriety 
of  mind  directed,  in  spite  of  her  aunt  Norris's 
opinion,  to  being  the  principal  lady  in  company, 
and  to  all  the  little  distinctions  consequent  thereon, 
she  found,  while  they  were  at  table,  such  a  happy 
flow  of  conversation  prevailing  in  which  she  was 
not  required  to  take  any  part,  —  there  was  so  much 
to  be  said  between  the  brother  and  sister  about 
Bath,  so  much  between  the  two  young  men  about 
hunting,  so  much  of  politics  between  Mr.  Crawford 
and  Dr.  Grant,  and  of  everything  and  altogether 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


291 


between  Mr.  Crawford  and  Mrs.  Grant,  as  to  leave 
her  the  fairest  prospect  of  having  only  to  listen  in 
quiet,  and  of  passing  a  very  agreeable  day.  She 
could  not  compliment  the  newly  arrived  gentle- 
man, however,  with  any  appearance  of  interest  in 
a  scheme  for  extending  his  stay  at  Mansfield,  and 
sending  for  his  hunters  from  Norfolk,  which,  sug- 
gested by  Dr.  Grant,  advised  by  Edmund,  and 
warmly  urged  Ify  the  two  sisters,  was  soon  in  pos- 
session of  his  mind,  and  which  he  seemed  to  want 
to  be  encouraged  even  by  her  to  resolve  on.  Her 
opinion  was  sought  as  to  the  probable  continuance 
of  the  open  weather ;  but  her  answers  were  as  short 
and  indifferent  as  civility  allowed.  She  could  not 
wish  him  to  stay,  and  would  much  rather  not  have 
him  speak  to  her. 

Her  two  absent  cousins,  especially  Maria,  were 
much  in  her  thoughts  on  seeing  him;  but  no  em- 
barrassing remembrance  affected  his  spirits.  Here 
he  was  again  on  the  same  ground  where  all  had 
passed  before,  and  apparently  as  willing  to  stay 
and  be  happy  without  the  Miss  Bertrams  as  if  he 
had  never  known  Mansfield  in  any  other  state. 
She  heard  them  spoken  of  by  him  only  in  a 
general  way,  till  they  were  all  re-assembled  in 
the  drawing-room,  when  Edmund  being  engaged 
apart  in  some  matter  of  business  with  Dr.  Grant, 
which  seemed  entirely  to  engross  them,  and  Mrs. 
Grant  occupied  at  the  tea-table,  he  began  talking 
of  them  with  more  particularity  to  his  other  sister. 
With  a  significant  smile,  which  made  Fanny  quite 
hate  him,  he  said,  So  Eush worth  and  his  fair  bride 
are  at  Brighton,  I  understand,  —  happy  man ! '  ^ 


292 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


^^Yes,  they  have  been  there  —  about  a  fort- 
night, Miss  Price,  have  they  not?  And  Julia  is 
with  them.'' 

And  Mr.  Yates,  I  presume,  is  not  far  off." 

'^Mr.  Yates!  Oh,  we  hear  nothing  of  Mr. 
Yates.  I  do  not  imagine  he  figures  much  in  the 
letters  to  Mansfield  Park;  do  you.  Miss  Price? 
I  think  my  friend  Julia  knows  better  than  to 
entertain  her  father  with  Mr.  Yates.'' 

"  Poor  Push  worth  and  his  two -and -forty 
speeches!"  continued  Crawford.  Nobody  can 
ever  forget  them.  Poor  fellow !  1  see  him  now,  — 
his  toil  and  his  despair.  Well,  I  am  much  mis- 
taken if  his  lovely  Maria  will  ever  want  him  to 
make  two-and-forty  speeches  to  her;  "  adding, 
with  a  momentary  seriousness,  ^^She  is  too  good 
for  him, — much  too  good."  And  then  changing 
his  tone  again  to  one  of  gentle  gallantry,  and 
addressing  Fanny,  he  said:  "  You  were  Mr.  Push- 
worth's  best  friend.  Your  kindness  and  patience 
can  never  be  forgotten,  your  indefatigable  patience 
in  trying  to  make  it  possible  for  him  to  learn  his 
part,  —  in  trying  to  give  him  a  brain  which  nature 
had  denied,  —  to  mix  up  an  understanding  for  him 
out  of  the  superfluity  of  your  own !  He  might  not 
have  sense  enough  himself  to  estimate  your  kind- 
ness, but  I  may  venture  to  say  that  it  had  honor 
from  all  the  rest  of  the  party." 

Panny  colored,  and  said  nothing. 

^^It  is  as  a  dream,  a  pleasant  dream!"  he  ex- 
claimed, breaking  forth  again,  after  a  few  minutes' 
musing.  ^^I  shall  always  look  back  on  our  theat- 
ricals with  exquisite  pleasure.    There  was  such  an 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


293 


interest,  such  an  animation,  such  a  spirit  diffused. 
Everybody  felt  it.  We  were  all  alive.  There 
was  employment,  hope,  solicitude,  bustle  for  every 
hour  of  the  day.  Always  some  little  objection, 
some  little  doubt,  some  little  anxiety  to  be  got 
over.    I  never  was  happier.^' 

With  silent  indignation  Fanny  repeated  to  her- 
self :  ' '  ISTever  happier !  —  never  happier  than  when 
doing  what  you  must  know  was  not  justifiable !  — 
never  happier  than  when  behaving  so  dishonorably 
and  unfeelingly!  Oh,  what  a  corrupted  mind! 

*^  We  were  unlucky.  Miss  Price,  he  continued 
in  a  lower  tone,  to  avoid  the  possibility  of  being 
heard  by  Edmund,  and  not  at  all  aware  of  her  feel- 
ings, ^^we  certainly  were  very  unlucky.  Another 
week,  only  one  other  week,  would  have  been 
enough  for  us.  I  think  if  we  had  had  the  disposal 
of  events,  if  Mansfield  Park  had  had  the  govern- 
ment of  the  winds  just  for  a  week  or  two  about  the 
equinox,  there  would  have  been  a  difference.  Not 
that  we  would  have  endangered  his  safety  by  any 
tremendous  weather,  but  only  by  a  steady  con- 
trary wind,  or  a  calm.  I  think.  Miss  Price,  we 
would  have  indulged  ourselves  with  a  week's  calm 
in  the  Atlantic  at  that  season. 

He  seemed  determined  to  be  answered;  and 
Eanny,  averting  her  face,  said  with  a  firmer  tone 
than  usual:  ^^As  far  as  I  am  concerned,  sir,  I 
would  not  have  delayed  his  return  for  a  day.  My 
uncle  disapproved  it  all  so  entirely  when  he  did 
arrive,  that  in  my  opinion  everything  had  gone 
quite  far  enough. 

She  had  never  spoken  so  much  at  once  to  him  iu 


294 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


her  life  before,  and  never  so  angrily  to  any  one; 
and  when  her  speech  was  over,  she  trembled  and 
blushed  at  her  own  daring.  He  was  surprised;  but 
after  a  few  moments'  silent  consideration  of  her, 
replied  in  a  calmer,  graver  tone,  and  as  if  the  can- 
did result  of  conviction,  "  I  believe  you  are  right. 
It  was  more  pleasant  than  prudent.  We  were 
getting  too  noisy.''  And  then  turning  the  con- 
versation, he  would  have  engaged  her  on  some 
other  subject,  but  her  answers  w^ere  so  shy  and 
reluctant  that  he  could  not  advance  in  any. 

Miss  Crawford,  who  had  been  repeatedly  eying 
Dr.  Grant  and  Edmund,  now  observed,  Those 
gentlemen  must  have  some  very  interesting  point 
to  discuss." 

^^The  most  interesting  in  the  world,"  rejDlied 
her  brother,  —  ^^how  to  make  money,  how  to  turn 
a  good  income  into  a  better.  Dr.  Grant  is  giving 
Bertram  instructions  about  the  living  he  is  to  step 
into  so  soon.  I  find  he  takes  orders  in  a  few 
weeks.  They  were  at  it  in  the  dining-parlor.  1 
am  glad  to  hear  Bertram  will  be  so  well  off.  He 
will  have  a  very  pretty  income  to  make  ducks  and 
drakes  with,  and  earned  without  much  trouble.  I 
apprehend  he  will  not  have  less  than  seven  hun- 
dred a  year.  Seven  hundred  a  year  is  a  fine  thing 
for  a  younger  brother;  and  as  of  course  he  will  still 
live  at  home,  it  will  be  all  for  his  menus  plaisirs; 
and  a  sermon  at  Christmas  and  Easter,  I  sup230se, 
will  be  the  sum  total  of  sacrifice." 

His  sister  tried  to  laugh  off  her  feelings  by  say- 
ing, Nothing  amuses  me  more  than  the  easy 
manner  with  which  everybody  settles  the  abun- 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


295 


dance  of  those  who  have  a  great  deal  less  than 
themselves.  You  would  look  rather  blank,  Henry, 
if  your  menus  plats irs  were  to  be  limited  to  seven 
hundred  a  year.'' 

Perhaps  I  might;  but  all  that  you  know  is  en- 
tirely comparative.  Birthright  and  habit  must 
settle  the  business.  Bertram  is  certainly  well  off 
for  a  cadet  of  even  a  Baronet's  family.  By  the 
time  he  is  four  or  five  and  twenty  he  will  have 
seven  hundred  a  year,  and  nothing  to  do  for  it." 

Miss  Crawford  could  have  said  that  there  would 
be  a  something  to  do  and  to  suffer  for  it,  which  she 
could  not  think  lightly  of;  but  she  checked  herself 
and  let  it  pass,  and  tried  to  look  calm  and  uncon- 
cerned when  the  two  gentlemen  shortly  afterwards 
joined  them. 

Bertram,"  said  Henry  Crawford,  ^^I  shall 
make  a  point  of  coming  to  Mansfield  to  hear  you 
preach  your  first  sermon.  I  shall  come  on  purpose 
to  encourage  a  young  beginner.  When  is  it  to  be? 
Miss  Price,  will  not  you  join  me  in  encouraging 
your  cousin?  Will  not  you  engage  to  attend  with 
your  eyes  steadily  fixed  on  him  the  whole  time,  — 
as  I  shall  do,  —  not  to  lose  a  word ;  or  only  looking 
off  just  to  note  down  any  sentence  pre-eminently 
beautiful?  We  will  provide  ourselves  with  tablets 
and  a  pencil.  When  will  it  be?  You  must  preach 
at  Mansfield,  you  know,  that  Sir  Thomas  and 
Lady  Bertram  may  hear  you." 

I  shall  keep  clear  of  you,  Crawford,  as  long  as 
I  can,"  said  Edmund;  ^^for  you  would  be  more 
likely  to  disconcert  me,  and  I  should  be  more  sorry 
to  see  you  trying  at  it,  than  almost  any  other  man.'' 


296 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


^^Will  he  not  feel  this?''  thought  Fanny. 
^^No,  he  can  feel  nothing  as  he  ought." 

The  party  being  now  all  united,  and  the  chief 
talkers  attracting  each  other,  she  remained  in  tran- 
quillity; and  as  a  whist-table  was  formed  after  tea, 
—  formed  really  for  the  amusement  of  Dr.  Grant, 
by  his  attentive  wife,  though  it  was  not  to  be  sup- 
posed so,  — and  Miss  Crawford  took  her  harp, 
she  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  listen;  and  her  tran- 
quillity remained  undisturbed  the  rest  of  the 
evening,  except  when  Mr.  Crawford  now  and  then 
addressed  to  her  a  question  or  observation,  which 
she  could  not  avoid  answering.  Miss  Crawford 
was  too  much  vexed  by  what  had  passed  to  be  in  a 
humor  for  anything  but  music.  With  that,  she 
soothed  herself  and  amused  her  friend. 

The  assurance  of  Edmund's  being  so  soon  to  take 
orders,  coming  upon  her  like  a  blow  that  had  been 
suspended,  and  still  hoped  uncertain  and  at  a  dis' 
tanee,  was  felt  with  resentment  and  mortification. 
She  was  very  angry  with  him.  She  had  thought 
her  influence  more.  She  had  begun  to  think  of 
him  —  she  felt  that  she  had  —  with  great  regard, 
with  almost  decided  intentions ;  but  she  would  now 
meet  him  with  his  own  cool  feelings.  It  was  plain 
that  he  could  have  no  serious  views,  no  true  attach- 
ment, by  fixing  himself  in  a  situation  which  he 
must  know  she  would  never  stoop  to.  She  would 
learn  to  match  him  in  his  indifference.  She  would 
henceforth  admit  his  attentions  without  any  idea 
beyond  immediate  amusement.  If  he  could  so 
command  his  affections,  hers  should  do  her  no 
harm. 


CHAPTEE  XXIV. 


Henry  Crawford  had  quite  made  up  his  mind 
by  the  next  morning  to  give  another  fortnight  to 
Mansfield;  and  having  sent  for  his  hunters,  and 
written  a  few  lines  of  explanation  to  the  Admiral, 
he  looked  round  at  his  sister  as  he  sealed  and  threw 
the  letter  from  him,  and  seeing  the  coast  clear  of 
the  rest  of  the  family,  said  with  a  smile:  ^^And 
how  do  you  think  I  mean  to  amuse  myself,  Mary, 
on  the  days  that  I  do  not  hunt?  I  am  grown  too 
old  to  go  out  more  than  three  times  a  week;  but  I 
have  a  plan  for  the  intermediate  days,  and  what  do 
you  think  it  is? 

"  To  walk  and  ride  with  me,  to  be  sure/' 
^^ISiot  exactly,  though  I  shall  be  happy  to  do 
both;  but  that  would  be  exercise  only  to  my  body, 
and  I  must  take  care  of  my  mind.  Besides,  that 
would  be  all  recreation  and  indulgence,  without 
the  wholesome  alloy  of  labor,  and  I  do  not  like  to 
eat  the  bread  of  idleness.  iSTo,  my  plan  is  to  make 
Fanny  Price  in  love  with  me.'' 

Fanny  Price!  ]^onsense!  ]LSro,  no ;  you  ought 
to  be  satisfied  with  her  two  cousins." 

But  I  cannot  be  satisfied  without  Fanny  Price, 
without  making  a  small  hole  in  Fanny  Price's 
heart.  You  do  not  seem  properly  avv^are  of  her 
claims  to  notice.    When  we  talked  of  her  last 


298 


MANSEIELD  PARK. 


night,  3^ou  none  of  you  seemed  sensible  of  the  won- 
derful improvement  that  has  taken  place  in  her 
looks  within  the  last  six  weeks.  Yon  see  her 
every  day,  and  therefore  do  not  notice  it;  but  I  as- 
sure you,  she  is  quite  a  different  creature  from 
what  she  was  in  the  autumn.  She  was  then  merely 
a  quiet,  modest,  not  plain-looking  girl ;  but  she  is 
now  absolutely  pretty.  I  used  to  think  she  had 
neither  complexion  nor  countenance;  but  in  that 
soft  skin  of  hers,  so  frequently  tinged  with  a  blush 
as  it  was  yesterday,  there  is  decided  beauty;  and 
from  what  I  observed  of  her  eyes  and  mouth,  I  do 
not  desj^air  of  their  being  capable  of  expression 
enough  when  she  has  anything  to  express.  'And 
then  —  her  air,  her  manner,  her  tout  eiisemhlej  is 
so  indescribably  improved!  She  must  be  grown 
two  inches,  at  least,  since  October.'' 

^^Phoo!  phoo!  This  is  only  because  there  were 
no  tall  women  to  compare  her  with,  and  because 
she  has  got  a  new  gown,  and  you  never  saw  her  so 
well  dressed  before.  She  is  just  what  she  was  in 
October,  believe  me.  The  truth  is,  that  she  was 
the  only  girl  in  company  for  you  to  notice,  and 
you  must  have  a  somebody.  I  have  always  thought 
her  pretty,  — not  strikingly  pretty,  — but  pretty 
enough,"  as  people  say;  a  sort  of  beauty  that  grows 
on  one.  Her  eyes  should  be  darker,  but  she  has  a 
sweet  smile;  but  as  for  this  wonderful  degree  of 
improvement,  I  am  sure  it  may  all  be  resolved  into 
a  better  style  of  dress  and  your  having  nobody  else 
to  look  at;  and  therefore,  if  you  do  set  about  a 
flirtation  with  her,  you  never  will  persuade  me 
that  it  is  in  compliment  to  her  beauty,  or  that  it 


MANSFIELD  PAKK. 


299 


proceeds  from  anything  but  your  own  idleness  and 
folly/' 

Her  brother  gave  only  a  smile  to  this  accusation, 
and  soon  afterwards  said :  ^  *  I  do  not  quite  know 
what  to  make  of  Miss  Fanny.  I  do  not  under- 
stand her.  I  could  not  tell  what  she  would  be 
at  yesterday.  What  is  her  character?  Is  she 
solemn?  Is  she  queer?  Is  she  prudish?  Why 
did  she  draw  back  and  look  so  grave  at  me?  I 
could  hardly  get  her  to  speak.  I  never  was  so  long 
in  company  with  a  girl  in  my  life,  — trying  to 
entertain  her,  —  and  succeed  so  ill !  Never  met 
with  a  girl  who  looked  so  grave  on  me!  I  must 
try  to  get  the  better  of  this.  Her  looks  say,  '  I 
will  not  like  you,  I  am  determined  not  to  like 
you;'  and  I  say,  she  shall.'' 

Foolish  fellow!  And  so  this  is  her  attraction, 
after  all !  This  it  is,  —  her  not  caring  about  you, 
—  which  gives  her  such  a  soft  skin,  and  makes  her 
so  much  taller,  and  produces  all  these  charms  and 
graces !  I  do  desire  that  you  will  not  be  making 
her  really  unhappy;  a  little  love  perhaps  may 
animate  and  do  her  good,  but  I  will  not  have  you 
plunge  her  deep,  for  she  is  as  good  a  little  creature 
as  ever  lived,  and  has  a  great  deal  of  feeling." 

^^It  can  be  but  for  a  fortnight,"  said  Henry; 
^^and  if  a  fortnight  can  kill  her,  she  must  have 
a  constitution  which  nothing  could  save.  No,  I 
will  not  do  her  any  harm,  dear  little  soul !  I  on\j 
want  her  to  look  kindly  on  me,  to  give  me  smiles 
as  well  as  blushes,  to  keep  a  chair  for  me  by  her- 
self wherever  we  are,  and  be  all  animation  when 
I  take  it  and  talk  to  her;  to  think  as  I  think,  be 


300 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


interested  in  all  my  possessions  and  pleasures,  try 
to  keep  me  longer  at  Mansfield,  and  feel  Avlien  I 
go  away  that  she  shall  be  never  happy  again.  I 
want  nothing  more.'^ 

Moderation  itself!  said  Mary.  I  can  have 
no  scruples  now.  Well,  you  will  have  opportuni- 
ties enough  of  endeavoring  to  recommend  yourself, 
for  we  are  a  great  deal  together." 

And  without  attempting  any  further  remon- 
strance, she  left  Fanny  to  her  fate,  —  a  fate  which, 
had  not  Fanny's  heart  been  guarded  in  a  way 
unsuspected  by  Miss  Crawford,  might  have  been 
a  little  harder  than  she  deserved;  for  although 
there  doubtless  are  such  unconquerable  young  ladies 
of  eighteen  (or  one  should  not  read  about  them) 
as  are  never  to  be  persuaded  into  love  against 
their  judgment  by  all  that  talent,  manner,  atten- 
tion, and  flattery  can  do,  I  have  no  inclination  to 
believe  Fanny  one  of  them,  or  to  think  that  with 
so  much  tenderness  of  disposition  and  so  much 
taste  as  belonged  to  her,  she  could  have  escaped 
heart-whole  from  the  courtship  (though  the  courtship 
only  of  a  fortnight)  of  such  a  man  as  Crawford, 
in  spite  of  there  being  some  previous  ill-opinion 
of  him  to  be  overcome,  had  not  her  affection  been 
engaged  elsewhere.  With  all  the  securit}'^  which 
love  of  another  and  disesteem  of  him  could  give 
to  the  peace  of  mind  he  was  attacking,  his  con- 
tinued attentions  —  continued,  but  not  obtrusive, 
and  adapting  themselves  more  and  more  to  the 
gentleness  and  delicacy  of  her  character  —  obliged 
her  very  soon  to  dislike  him  less  than  formerly. 
She  had  by  no  means  forgotten  the  past,  and  she 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


301 


thoiiglit  as  ill  of  him  as  ever;  but  she  felt  his 
powers:  he  was  entertaining;  and  his  manners 
were  so  improved^  so  polite,  so  seriously  and 
blamelessly  polite,  that  it  was  impossible  not  to 
be  civil  to  him  in  return. 

A  very  few  days  were  enough  to  effect  this;  and 
at  the  end  of  those  few  days  circumstances  arose 
which  had  a  tendency  rather  to  forward  his  views 
of  pleasing  her,  inasmuch  as  they  gave  her  a  de- 
gree of  happiness  which  must  dispose  her  to  be 
pleased  with  everybody.  William,  her  brother, 
the  so  long  absent  and  dearly  loved  brother,  was 
in  England  again.  She  had  a  letter  from  him 
herself,  a  few  hurried  happy  lines,  written  as  the 
ship  came  up  Channel,  and  sent  into  Portsmouth, 
with  the  first  boat  that  left  the  Antwerp,  at  an- 
chor, in  Spithead;  and  when  Crawford  walked  up 
with  the  newspaper  in  his  hand,  which  he  had 
hoped  would  bring  the  first  tidings,  he  found  her 
trembling  with  jo}^  over  this  letter,  and  listening 
with  a  glowing,  grateful  countenance  to  the  kind 
invitation  w^hich  her  uncle  was  most  collectedly 
dictating  in  reply. 

It  was  but  the  day  before,  that  Crawford  had 
made  himself  thoroughly  master  of  the  subject,  or 
had  in  fact  become  at  all  aware  of  her  having  such 
a  brother,  or  his  being  in  such  a  ship ;  but  the  in- 
terest then  excited  had  been  very  properly  lively, 
determining  him  on  his  return  to  town  to  apply 
for  information  as  to  the  probable  period  of  the 
Antwerp's  return  from  the  Mediterranean,  etc. ; 
and  the  good  luck  which  attended  his  early  exam- 
ination of  ship  news,  the  next  morning,  seemed 


302  MANSFIELD  PARK. 


the  reward  of  his  ingenuity  in  finding  out  such  a 
method  of  pleasing  her,  as  well  as  of  his  dutiful 
attention  to  the  Admiral,  in  having  for  many 
years  taken  in  the  paper  esteemed  to  have  the 
earliest  naval  intelligence.  He  proved,  however, 
to  be  too  late.  All  those  fine  first  feelings,  of 
which  he  had  hoped  to  be  the  exciter,  were  already 
given.  But  his  intention,  the  kindness  of  his  in- 
tention, w^as  thankfully  acknowledged,  —  quite 
thankfully  and  warmly,  for  she  was  elevated  be- 
yond the  common  timidity  of  her  mind  by  the 
flow  of  her  love  for  William. 

This  dear  William  would  soon  be  amongst  them. 
There  could  be  no  doubt  of  his  obtaining  leave  of 
absence  immediately,  for  he  was  still  only  a  mid- 
shipman; and  as  his  parents,  from  living  on  the 
spot,  must  already  have  seen  him  and  be  seeing 
him  perhaps  daily,  his  direct  holidays  might  with 
justice  be  instantly  given  to  the  sister,  who  had 
been  his  best  correspondent  through  a  period  of 
seven  years,  and  the  uncle  who  had  done  most  for 
his  support  and  advancement;  and  accordingly  the 
reply  to  her  reply,  fixing  a  very  early  day  for  his 
arrival,  came  as  soon  as  possible;  and  scarcely  ten 
days  had  passed  since  Fanny  had  been  in  the  agi- 
tation of  her  first  dinner  visit,  when  she  found 
herself  in  an  agitation  of  a  higher  nature,  — watch- 
ing in  the  hall,  in  the  lobby,  on  the  stairs,  for  the 
first  sound  of  the  carriage  which  was  to  bring  her 
a  brother. 

It  came  happily  while  she  was  thus  waiting; 
and  there  being  neither  ceremony  nor  fearfulness 
to  delay  the  moment  of  meeting,  she  was  with  him 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


303 


as  he  entered  the  house,  and  the  first  minutes  of 
exquisite  feeling  had  no  interruption  and  no  wit- 
nesses, unless  the  servants  chiefly  intent  upon 
opening  the  proper  doors  could  be  called  such. 
This  was  exactly  what  Sir  Thomas  and  Edmund 
had  been  separately  conniving  at,  as  each  proved 
to  the  other  by  the  sympathetic  alacrity  with 
which  they  both  advised  Mrs.  N'orris's  continuing 
where  she  was,  instead  of  rushing  out  into  the 
hall  as  soon  as  the  noises  of  the  arrival  reached 
them. 

William  and  Fanny  soon  showed  themselves; 
and  Sir  Thomas  had  the  pleasure  of  receiving,  in 
his  protege,  certainly  a  very  different  person  from 
the  one  he  had  equipped  seven  years  ago,  but  a 
young  man  of  an  open,  pleasant  countenance,  and 
frank,  unstudied,  but  feeling  and  respectful  man- 
ners, and  such  as  confirmed  him  his  friend. 

It  was  long  before  Fanny  could  recover  from  the 
agitating  happiness  of  such  an  hour  as  was  formed 
by  the  last  thirty  minutes  of  expectation  and  the 
first  of  fruition ;  it  was  some  time  even  before  her 
happiness  could  be  said  to  make  her  happy,  before 
the  disappointment  inseparable  from  the  alteration 
of  person  had  vanished,  and  she  could  see  in  him 
the  same  William  as  before,  and  talk  to  him,  as 
her  heart  had  been  yearning  to  do,  through  many 
a  past  year.  That  time,  however,  did  gradually 
come,  forwarded  by  an  affection  on  his  side  as 
warm  as  her  own,  and  much  less  encumbered  by 
refinement  or  self-distrust.  She  was  the  first 
object  of  his  love;  but  it  was  a  love  which  his 
stronger  spirits  and  bolder  temper  made  it  as 


304 


MANSFIELD  PAEK. 


natural  for  him  to  express  as  to  feel.  On  the 
morrow  they  were  walking  about  together  with 
true  enjoyment,  and  every  succeeding  morrow  re- 
/newed  a  tete-a-tete^  which  Sir  Thomas  could  not 
but  observe  with  complacency,  even  before  Ed- 
mund had  pointed  it  out  to  him. 

Excepting  the  moments  of  peculiar  delight, 
which  any  marked  or  unlooked-for  instance  of 
Edmund's  consideration  of  her  in  the  last  few 
months  had  excited,  Eanny  had  never  known  so 
much  felicity  in  her  life  as  in  this  unchecked, 
equal,  fearless  intercourse  with  the  brother  and 
friend,  who  was  opening  all  his  heart  to  her,  tell- 
ing her  all  his  hopes  and  fears,  plans  and  solici- 
tudes respecting  that  long  thought  of,  dearly 
earned,  and  justly  valued  blessing  of  promotion,  — 
who  could  give  her  direct  and  minute  information 
of  the  father  and  mother,  brothers  and  sisters,  of 
whom  she  very  seldom  heard,  — who  was  interested 
in  all  the  comforts  and  all  the  little  hardships  of 
her  home  at  Mansfield,  ready  to  think  of  every 
member  of  that  home  as  she  directed,  or  differing 
only  by  a  less  scrupulous  opinion  and  more  noisy 
abuse  of  their  aunt  IvTorris,  —  and  with  whom 
(perhaps  the  dearest  indulgence  of  the  whole)  all 
the  evil  and  good  of  their  earliest  years  could  be 
gone  over  again,  and  every  former  united  pain 
and  pleasure  retraced  with  the  fondest  recollection. 
An  advantage  this,  a  strengthener  of  love,  in 
which  even  the  conjugal  tie  is  beneath  the  frater- 
nal. Children  of  the  same  family,  the  same  blood, 
with  the  same  first  associations  and  habits,  have 
some  means  of  enjoyment  in  their  power  which 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


305 


no  subsequent  connections  can  supply;  and  it 
must  be  by  a  long  and  unnatural  estrangement, 
by  a  divorce  which  no  subsequent  connection  can 
justify,  if  such  precious  remains  of  the  earliest 
attachments  are  ever  entirely  outlived.  Too  often, 
alas!  it  is  so.  Fraternal  love,  sometimes  almost 
everything,  is  at  others  worse  than  nothing.  But 
with  William  and  Fanny  Price  it  was  still  a  sen- 
timent in  all  its  prime  and  freshness,  wounded  by 
no  opposition  of  interest,  cooled  by  no  separate 
attachment,  and  feeling  the  influence  of  time  and 
absence  only  in  its  increase. 

An  affection  so  amiable  was  advancing  each  in 
the  opinion  of  all  wdio  had  hearts  to  value  anything 
good.  Henry  Crawford  was  as  much  struck  with 
it  as  any.  He  honored  the  warm-hearted  blunt 
fondness  of  the  young  sailor,  which  led  him  to 
say,  with  his  hand  stretched  towards  Fanny's 
head:  ^^Do  you  know,  I  begin  to  like  that  queer 
fashion  already,  though  when  I  flrst  heard  of  such 
things  being  done  in  England,  I  could  not  believe 
it,  and  when  Mrs.  Brown,  and  the  other  women 
at  the  Commissioner's  at  Gibraltar,  appeared  in 
the  same  trim,  I  thought  they  were  mad;  but 
Fanny  can  reconcile  me  to  anything;  ''  —  and  saw, 
with  lively  admiration,  the  glow  of  Fanny's 
cheek,  the  brightness  of  her  eye,  the  deep  interest, 
the  absorbed  attention,  while  her  brother  was  de- 
scribing any  of  the  imminent  hazards  or  terrific 
scenes  which  such  a  period  at  sea  must  supply. 

It  was  a  picture  which  Henry  Crawford  had 
moral  taste  enough  to  value.  Fanny's  attractions 
increased, — increased  twofold;  for  the  sensibility 

VOL.  I.  —  20 


306 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


which  beautified  her  complexion  and  illumined  her 
countenance  was  an  attraction  in  itself.  He  was 
no  longer  in  doubt  of  the  capabilities  of  her  heart. 
She  had  feeling,  genuine  feeling.  It  would  be 
something  to  be  loved  by  such  a  girl,  to  excite  the 
first  ardors  of  her  young,  unsophisticated  mind! 
She  interested  him  more  than  he  had  foreseen.  A 
fortnight  was  not  enough.  His  stay  became 
indefinite. 

William  was  often  called  on  by  his  uncle  to  be 
the  talker.  His  recitals  were  amusing  in  them- 
selves to  Sir  Thomas;  but  the  chief  object  in  seek- 
ing them  was  to  understand  the  reciter,  to  know 
the  young  man  by  his  histories;  and  he  listened 
to  his  clear,  simple,  spirited  details  with  full  satis- 
faction, seeing  in  them  the  proof  of  good  princi- 
ples, professional  knowledge,  energy,  courage,  and 
cheerfulness,  —  everything  that  could  deserve  or 
promise  well.  Young  as  he  was,  William  had 
already  seen  a  great  deal.  He  had  been  in  the 
Mediterranean,  in  the  West  Indies,  in  the  Medi- 
terranean again ;  had  been  often  taken  on  shore  by 
the  favor  of  his  captain,  and  in  the  course  of  seven 
years  had  known  every  variety  of  danger  which 
sea  and  war  together  could  offer.  With  such 
means  in  his  power  he  had  a  right  to  be  listened 
to;  and  though  Mrs.  Norris  could  fidget  about  the 
room,  and  disturb  everybody  in  quest  of  two 
needlefuls  of  thread  or  a  second-hand  shirt  button 
in  the  midst  of  her  nephew's  account  of  a  ship- 
wreck or  an  engagement,  everybody  else  was  at- 
tentive; and  even  Lady  Bertram  could  not  hear  of 
such  horrors  unmoved,  or  without  sometimes  lift- 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


307 


ing  her  eyes  from  her  work  to  say,  ^^Dear  me! 
how  disagreeable !  I  wonder  anybody  can  ever  go 
to  sea.'' 

To  Henry  Crawford  they  gave  a  different  feeling. 
He  longed  to  have  been  at  sea,  and  seen  and  done 
and  suffered  as  much.  His  heart  was  warm,  his 
fancy  fired,  and  he  felt  the  highest  respect  for  a 
lad  who,  before  he  was  twenty,  had  gone  through 
such  bodily  hardships,  and  given  such  proofs  of 
mind.  The  glory  of  heroism,  of  usefulness,  of 
exertion,  of  endurance,  made  his  own  habits  of  self- 
ish indulgence  appear  in  shameful  contrast;  and 
he  wished  he  had  been  a  William  Price,  distin- 
guishing himself  and  working  his  way  to  fortune 
and  consequence  with  so  much  self-respect  and 
happy  ardor,  instead  of  what  he  was ! 

The  wish  was  rather  eager  than  lasting.  He 
was  roused  from  the  reverie  of  retrospection  and 
regret  produced  by  it,  by  some  inquiry  from  Ed- 
mund as  to  his  plans  for  the  next  day's  hunting; 
and  he  found  it  was  as  well  to  be  a  man  of  fortune 
at  once  with  horses  and  grooms  at  his  command. 
In  one  respect  it  was  better,  as  it  gave  him  the 
means  of  conferring  a  kindness  where  he  wished  to 
oblige.  With  spirits,  courage,  and  curiosity  up 
to  anything,  William  expressed  an  inclination  to 
hunt;  and  Crawford  could  mount  him  without  the 
slightest  inconvenience  to  himself,  and  with  only 
some  scruples  to  obviate  in  Sir  Thomas,  who  knew 
better  than  his  nephew  the  value  of  such  a  loan, 
and  some  alarms  to  reason  away  in  Fanuy.  She 
feared  for  William,  by  no  means  convinced  by  all 
that  he  could  relate  of  his  own  horsemanship  in 


308 


MANSFIELD  PARK. 


various  countries,  of  the  scrambling  parties  in 
which  he  had  been  engaged,  the  rough  horses  and 
mules  he  had  ridden,  or  his  many  narrow  escapes 
from  dreadful  falls,  that  he  was  at  all  equal  to  the 
management  of  a  high-fed  hunter  in  an  English 
fox-chase;  nor  till  he  returned  safe  and  well,  with- 
out accident  or  discredit,  could  she  be  reconciled 
to  the  risk,  or  feel  any  of  that  obligation  to  Mr. 
Crawford  for  lending  the  horse  which  he  had  fully 
intended  it  should  produce.  When  it  was  proved, 
however,  to  have  done  William  no  harm,  she 
could  allow  it  to  be  a  kindness,  and  even  reward 
the  owner  with  a  smile  when  the  animal  was  one 
minute  tendered  to  his  use  again,  and  the  next, 
with  the  greatest  cordiality,  and  in  a  manner  not 
to  be  resisted,  made  over  to  his  use  entirely  go 
long  as  he  remained  in  Northamptonshire.  ' 


END  OF  VOL.  I. 


